Although now that he was well into his third month, he was really going to have to consider heading back soon – likely within the next few days. There were things to do.
But not today. Not on a rare, gorgeous early spring day with fish that needed catching.
“Although, they don’t seem to be biting,” Bertram said.
“Yes, I fear I came back from London to sleeping fish,” John grumbled.
“How is it that you have your own trout stream and you’ve never learned the point of fishing?” Adam cried, pulling himself up to seated and checking on his own line. Nothing.
“I thought the point was to catch fish. To eat.”
“You’ve positively become a killjoy, John. And I refuse to allow any joy-killing on the last few days of my tenure here.”
“Then you best not turn around,” John said, and of course, Adam had to swivel around.
Sturridge Manor stood in the distance, and at that moment, three people were emerging out onto the back lawn. Three people in dresses. That would imply it was his sister-in-law Francesca, Miss Gage by her height, and…
“Oh, hell,” Adam grumbled.
“What?” Bertram, too, turned in his seat. Following Adam’s gaze he asked, “Miss Leonard? What about her?”
“Nothing,” John offered. “She and Adam tend to be at odds.”
“Why?” Bertram asked. “She seemed like a very amiable young lady to me.”
“Yes,” Adam replied. “To you.”
“Don’t mind him,” John offered. “It has to do with a long ago bowls game. One where Adam was soundly beaten and proved a bad sport about it.”
“I was twelve,” Adam said. “And I made my apologies and offered to play cards with her after. I was refused.”
“Sounds like you still are twelve,” Bertram said under his breath, and John guffawed.
Adam just rolled his eyes. If he was still twelve, he would have stalked off with anger, but as an adult he could easily recognize that he’d been an impulsive twelve-year-old, appalled to have lost to girl of nine who had walked up to them and declared herself good. He remembered thinking she was a pretty, sad little thing, too – until she started playing, that is.
But over time, what should have faded away as a childish spat had just compounded. Every time he saw her after that, she would always find something wrong with him. When he came home during school holidays, or before he headed out to the continent in his red coat. Or when he’d first gone up to not-Scotland.
Granted, at some point he perhaps began needling Belinda, to see how far he could push her exasperation. So far, he had reached no limit.
And to be honest, it was getting a bit exhausting. But it was their way.
Let’s see… he was wearing his trousers rolled up. God knows she’d mock him for that. If they were further away he might roll them down, just to avoid an argument in mixed company, but then he decided there was something delightful about watching Belinda have to hold her tongue in front of others.
“Hello, darling!” Francesca called out, and John rose to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. “Have you caught anything?”
“Not a bite,” John replied, then turned to the others. “Miss Gage, Miss Leonard. Lovely to see you.”
“Not too cold, Georgie?” Bertram asked.
“I have two shawls on,” Miss Gage replied with a patient smile. “Miss Leonard gave me hers and it is quite warm.”
“Thank you Miss Leonard,” Bertram smiled, turning to Belinda, who graced him with a smile in return. Funny, Adam had no idea she could smile. He hadn’t seen it in… ever. “I fear my sister is always a little too eager to cast off her illness, even before it’s willing to go.”
“One can never be too careful – especially in the spring. The weather can be so changeable. We want it to warm up so desperately we throw aside caution.”
Her eyes flicked to Adam’s trousers – or rather to his bared calves. An eyebrow went up. There it is, he thought with a little thrill of satisfaction. But just as quickly as he had gained her attention, she swung it away again, as Miss Gage made an announcement.
“I’ve promised Bertram that all the fires will remain high at the Friar’s House, even during the party.”
“Party?” John asked, taking the bait.
“Yes, dearest,” Francesca answered. “The Gages have decided to hold a dinner party in a fortnight, to say thank you to the neighborhood for such a warm welcome.”
“We have?” Bertram asked.
“It will be just the thing!” Georgie beamed. “And don’t worry, I won’t be lifting a finger – Miss Leonard will be helping to organize it all.”
“We cannot ask Miss Leonard to –”
“It is no difficulty, Mr. Gage,” Belinda said. “I dearly love to organize.”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” Adam couldn’t stop himself from saying. But Belinda – and everyone else – continued on as if they hadn’t heard him.
“And I’ve always wanted to explore the Friar’s House. We used to hear stories from the owners about how it has haunted secret passages.”
“Haunted secret passages?” Bertram asked. “That information, I admit, was not disclosed to us.”
“Well, Belinda can tell you all about it on the way in for luncheon,” Miss Gage said. And before Adam knew what was happening, they were abandoning their fishing poles and heading back up to the house. Francesca took John’s arm, telling him how little Johnny was waiting for them after his nap, and his recent coos and smiles. Bertram had Belinda on one arm, and made to take Miss Gage’s with his other, but before he could she had moved to Adam’s side. A bright smile met her brother’s surprised blink, but he simply turned and began to lead Miss Leonard inside.
“Give them a moment,” Georgie whispered to Adam. “I want to give them some space.”
“Afraid of ghost stories, Miss Gage?” Adam asked jovially. “I assure you the Friar’s House is not really haunted.”
“No, of course not,” she said. “Don’t you think they look well together?”
“Who?”
She nodded ahead of them. Adam’s brow came down. “Well they are… of a height?” Belinda was a tall female, and only a few inches shorter than her companion.
“I think they are suited in more ways than height,” Georgie replied.
“Miss Leonard – Belinda. And your brother?” Adam was certain he could not be hearing her correctly. “You cannot be serious.”
“Whyever not?” Georgie replied. “I assure you, my brother is quite eligible. As is Miss Leonard.”
“I have no doubt he is. And… she is too, I suppose. But…”
“But what?”
But he’d never even thought of Belinda ever being suited for anyone. The idea of her married – it was just so strange. She would drive the poor man crazy with her constant need to be right and fix everything to her liking. He’d been firmly convinced for some time that she would live and die an old maid.
“My brother needs a woman in his life,” Georgie said, seeing his confusion. “And as for Miss Leonard… well, surely you’ve noticed the admiring glances he’s sent her.”
“He has?” Adam asked. For a moment, he felt like he’d lost his bearings, and was not at the home where he’d grown up. This entire thing was terribly unfamiliar.
Georgie’s cheeks colored very suddenly. “I’ve said too much. Let us speak of blander things. Will you be attending our party at the Friar’s House, Mr. Sturridge. Please do say you’ll come.”
Adam’s mind swung violently from his musings to Georgie’s question. The party was in a fortnight. He had been planning on heading back to his own estate before the end of this week. He’d already begun packing, and composed the letters to his steward and land manager to let them know of his arrival.
But he hadn’t posted them yet.
His eyes flicked ahead of them, to where Bertram was laughing at something Belinda had said. And she was laughing too.
&nb
sp; And something strange lanced through him. Not unlike when his horse took a jump Adam was not prepared for.
Maybe he should stay a little while longer. Just until he was sure that the good weather was going to hold. To make his journey easier, of course.
“Nothing would please me more, Miss Gage.”
Chapter Four
* * *
It was over the course of the next few days that Adam decided that Miss Georgette Gage was completely mad.
Oh, not really. In most things, she showed strong common sense and good humor – for instance, when she was dealing with her brother’s fears about her health. (As someone who had an older brother himself, he admired her restraint.) And she was generally a very happy, vivacious new member of their circle.
So it was just too bad that she had somehow abandoned all sense and thought that her brother Bertram was interested in Belinda Leonard.
This wasn’t a conclusion he came to lightly. No, he had spent the past few days observing the two of them very closely. And he’d had ample opportunity to do so – he made sure of it.
Luckily for Adam he did not have to go far for observation. Not only did Francesca and Belinda have the Hemshawe Fair and a Harvest Festival to plan, but now they had a party to help Miss Gage put together. Thus the three of them had become completely inseparable. As Belinda walked there daily for some reason (Sturridge Manor and Croftburr were not adjoining – one had to walk a bit of the main road of Hemshawe, but they were within a few easy miles of each other) and Francesca insisted on having her housekeeper help with the party’s organizational efforts, naturally everyone ended up at Sturridge Manor.
Mrs. Clotworthy had taken a spring chill, so Bertram Gage found it necessary to escort his sister on her daily outings (really, didn’t the man have better things to do?). As such, Bertram Gage and Belinda Leonard were often in the same room together.
And to Adam’s eye, they showed absolutely no partiality for each other.
Because when Bertram crossed the room to bend over Belinda’s hand, that was common courtesy, wasn’t it? He bent over Francesca’s as well… although, as it was Francesca’s house, shouldn’t he bend over hers first?
And when Miss Gage complained she was too warm and unwrapped the shawl Belinda had leant her, she gave it to Bertram to give back to Belinda. The fact that he had laid it across her shoulders was nothing more than good manners.
Perhaps Belinda smiled at Bertram when he did so, but then she went on talking about the decorations or some such thing for Miss Gage’s party like nothing had happened.
But that she had smiled at all…
However, Adam had to admit, contrary to previous opinion, Belinda did smile regularly. Just not at him, hence he wasn’t used to seeing it. She smiled at Francesca, at Miss Gage, at John, and at the maid who brought in their tea.
She smiled at Bertram.
But never at Adam.
So it was with some surprise that he realized that not only did Belinda smile, but that she had a rather nice smile. Not just that she had straight teeth and the requisite number of them, but the whole act did something interesting to her face. What he had always assumed was the harsh stare of her judgment transformed into the light of someone who had a joke inside their head, constantly amusing them.
But not only did Belinda smile, she laughed when listening to Bertram tell a story of how he once lost his horse in his own mews.
“When I turn around, there he was, following me at three paces the entire length of the mews.”
It was not the bitter cackle he’d expected. Instead, it was a light, happy sound that filled up the room, and prompted others to join in.
All except Adam, that is. How come she never laughed like that when he told a joke? He was, in his own estimation, quite funny. And Bertram losing his horse in the narrow alley behind his house showed him to be an idiot. That was worthy of scorn, not lovely, lyrical laughter!
Ah, that must be it. She must be simply humoring him. Being polite to their new neighbor in the face of his obvious stupidity.
So, when they walked out the next day through Hemshawe to look in shop windows, and Belinda ended up on Bertram’s arm, he knew she took it only out of a desire to not embarrass either Miss Gage as the man’s sister or Francesca as his host.
Yes. That was the only reason.
Thus, Adam was content that there was no feasible way Bertram Gage was interested in Belinda. Or, if he was, certainly Belinda was not at all interested in him. In fact, she likely found his attentions odious. Hence the over-bright smile and the cheerful laughter. She probably hated to be in his presence at all. Absolutely dreaded being left alone with him. Not that there was any danger of their being left alone together… or was there? If Miss Gage was cunning – and she certainly seemed to be – then she might engineer a way for the two of them to be separated from the group. And Francesca – wanting nothing but happiness for her friend – would go along with it.
It was with that in mind that he decided it would be best – yes, it would be – to protect Belinda from such a fate.
As much as he might loathe Belinda Leonard, it was, without a doubt, the gentlemanly thing to do.
“Where are you going?” he called out from the great curving staircase in the main entrance hall. He’d used to slide down these banisters as a child (and all right, as a young man – and a not so young man) but at that moment he simply bounded down them two at a time.
“To call on Miss Gage,” a surprised Francesca had replied, as she pulled on a pair of gloves and her cloak – it was still too cool to go without it.
“They’re… they’re not coming here today?” he asked. Damn, he’d had it all worked out. He’d get John to leave off his desk and papers for once and get Bertram to help him do… something, and Belinda would be free to go about ordering everyone around and making very long lists without Bertram over her shoulder.
“We decided yesterday that there was no use in planning a party at the Friar’s House if we weren’t at the Friar’s House.” She looked at him skeptically. “For heaven’s sake Adam, you were there when we discussed this yesterday.”
“I was?” Yesterday was a bit of a blur of silly party details and watching Bertram Gage drool over Belinda’s hand. “I was, I suppose. And yes, that would make sense.” Adam nodded quickly. “Actually, I might be able to be of some help. I’ll come along, shall I?”
“How,” Francesca asked, bewildered, “could you be of any help?”
“I can… go up on ladders and hang things, or move heavy furniture. That sort of thing.”
“There are footmen for ‘that sort of thing,’ and besides, we are only discussing and making lists today. Wouldn’t you be happier –”
“Too late, my coat’s on,” he said, flipping his coat over his shoulders and onto his back. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to see inside the Friar’s House… shall we?”
So it was that Adam ended up in the parlor of the Friar’s House, listening to the endless discussion over which butcher in town would be able to provide the best spring lamb, and what flowers would be available from Sturridge Manor’s gardens.
And Bertram Gage was nowhere in sight.
“My brother?” Miss Gage said, when he entered. “He’s gone over to speak with our landlord today. Wanted to make sure they are informed of the party, no doubt, and the he thinks my rooms are too chilly.”
“Yes, it’s so unfortunate,” Belinda said.
“It is?” Miss Gage replied with a light in her eyes as she glanced to Adam.
“It is?” Adam said, his brow coming down.
“Yes – he would be able to tell us what capacity the stables have, for when the guests arrive.”
And so he was stuck. And halfway to banging his head against a wall.
To be honest, at least they were very interesting walls. The Friar’s House was an old monastery, built in the thirteenth century, but it was taken over when Henry VIII decided Catholicism wasn’t at all the
thing. It was half torn down by the time someone decided to build anew atop its rubble. The result was half crumbled stone, half manor house, with a turret in one corner and Grecian columns lining another side.
Everyone in the neighborhood knew the rumors of secret passages the monks had created to escape persecution as long as they could, and of the monk who still walked the halls of the old section.
“And if this fete is meant to have dancing, we simply must book the musicians now – Tunbridge Wells has a few good quartets, but they are in high demand,” Belinda was saying, going down a checklist in her notebook. “I would recommend the Gregsons, they have a tuba, but the Dilby string quartet would do in a pinch –”
Really, was this all women talked about? Details?
“Who cares?” he said all of a sudden.
All three heads of ladies turned his way. His skin burned hot.
“I mean, certainly, that I have no ear for music, so I… I would not take much notice if there was a tuba there, or not,” he mumbled. “Perhaps I’m not suited to… help with musical choices.”
“Perhaps?” This sardonic note from Belinda, who didn’t even look up from her notebook.
“I know!” Miss Gage cried. “Cook is preparing several different treats for us to try for the party. You should try them for us first, refine the selection to your six or seven favorites.”
“Refine the selection… test them for poison,” Belinda said casually.
“Excellent suggestion,” Francesca said, ignoring Belinda. “We will call you if we need you.”
“We shan’t need you,” Belinda said.
“I’ll direct you to the kitchens, Mr. Sturridge,” Miss Gage said, jumping to her feet.
She walked a little ways down the hall with him, until they came to an intersection.
“It’s down this way, through that door at the end of the hall, then down the stairs. Tell Cook I said to start you with the cream puffs. They are Bertram’s favorite.”
“Bertram,” Adam scoffed. “Yes, I imagine he does love a good cream puff.”
A Gentleman For All Seasons Page 3
