Serena held a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter as she watched him finally gain the cover of the long line of box hedge screening. He seemed to visibly breathe a great sigh of relief, and his furtive manner left him entirely as he strode confidently along towards the stone benches of the camellia garden.
“I am so glad you finally made it in safety,” Serena said, stepping out from behind a tall trellis, thickly woven with dark green camellia leaves and beautiful pink and heavy flowers.
The man looked up at her startled and very nearly dropped his plate of pastries.
“Oh, do be careful. You have been to such lengths to keep them safe up until now. It would be a terrible shame if your pastries ended up on the flagstones.” Serena was fighting a very strong urge to laugh.
“So, you have watched me all this way, presumably,” the man said, smiling as he spoke.
He was not in any way embarrassed to have been seen making his illicit approach and not at all annoyed at an unknown young lady poking fun at him. Quite the opposite; he seemed rather pleased with it all.
“I saw every bit of it, Sir. The only thing I am missing is what it was that caused you to undertake such an elaborate escape in the first place. Obviously, I should not like to pry, but all the same, I must admit myself terribly interested.”
On closer inspection, Serena realised that the young man had come along to the garden party with Charles Lockhart, a friend of her father’s. In truth, she had not paid him much attention, only to wonder who he was or if she had ever seen him before. After that, Serena had been content in other conversation and had forgotten the man entirely.
Now that he was standing before her, he was not, perhaps, quite as young as she had first thought. Initially thinking him to be around her own age, at perhaps one and twenty years, Serena realised that he was probably a little closer to eight and twenty, however much his strange behaviour might indicate otherwise. However, he was an incredibly handsome sort of a man and looked to be really rather fit and healthy. His hair was a nice dark ashen blond, and his eyes a pale blue. Despite his rather firmly set jaw, Serena could tell by the faint lines around his eyes that he was a man who laughed a great deal. Or at least smiled, at any rate.
“I cannot lie, my dear woman, but I was rather on the run from two young ladies who were seated with the other guests. As ungentlemanly as I might appear, I have been in their company before, and I know well how difficult it is to extricate oneself from it.” He grinned at her.
“I do not suppose that is particularly ungentlemanly. After all, perhaps it is simply honest.” She smiled back.
“It is as honest as I can be in new company, dear lady,” he said with a shrug.
“Oh, so there is more to be said about the young ladies in question?” Serena said wickedly.
“A good deal more.” He began to chuckle. “But I shall not be led to say it, my dear.”
“Have it your own way,” she said, smiling. “Perhaps you would like to take a seat and finally have a chance at eating your pastries.”
“Yes, I should like that very much,” he said, glancing down at the little pastries once more with a look of longing. “I almost began to wonder if I should ever taste a morsel today. I wonder if you would care to join me? I might even let you have a pastry if you are hungry.”
“I should very much like to join you, Sir. And how kind of you to offer to share your food.”
“You misunderstand me, my dear lady. You may have precisely two of the little pastries. I shall be eating the rest. After all, you have seen with your own eyes how I earned them.” He moved to stand by the stone bench as he laughed jovially. He held out a hand to indicate that Serena should sit first, and then he sat down at her side.
Serena found that she liked him very much already. Not only was he really rather handsome, but he seemed to be incredibly witty and amusing. He had something of an unguarded manner and a teasing nature which she found strangely attractive. Having known him only a matter of minutes, already Serena knew that she had not met another like him.
In truth, she found herself little interested in the succession of men who had been paraded before her since she had come out into society three years before. They were a dreadful mixture of callow youths and boisterous and wealthy middle-aged men. She had often found herself wondering if there was not something a little more suitable somewhere in between the two but had found little evidence of it.
She had come to find that gentlemen who were suitably somewhere between the two were already suitably married. However, Serena did not torture herself with such thoughts. She had never yet concerned herself a great deal with marriage and hoped that those certain fears and uncertainties would never cloud her world.
“Well, now that we are firm friends, Sir, perhaps I ought to introduce myself,” Serena said, rather adept at a bit of teasing herself. At least she seemed to have an audience of one who would very likely appreciate her manner.
“I do not know, my dear lady,” he said, comically separating two small pastries from the rest on his plate and indicating that they were hers. “I wonder if it would rather spoil things.”
“You do have a good point, Sir. After all, our acquaintance so far is based entirely upon my secret surveillance of you.” She laughed.
“Yes, and you were awfully good at it, I must say. I looked all about me for any sign of a witness and was convinced that there was none. I have to wonder how many other people saw me trotting from peacock to peacock.”
“They are rather good, are they not? As a means of refuge, you understand,” Serena said and laughed. “I must admit, until today, I have never seen the sense in them.”
“So, you are well acquainted with these particular peacocks, are you?” he said, chewing thoughtfully on the second of his pastries.
“Well, if I were to answer that, I might give a little something away of my identity. And, as you have already pointed out, that might rather spoil things.”
“Perhaps I have changed my mind upon the thing,” he said, grinning.
“Good heavens, are you so changeable?”
“It seems very likely,” he said. “I daresay I have a chameleon character.”
“Well, whatever happens to you when the wind changes direction?” she said, laughing.
“I simply blow along with the rest of the leaves, my dear.” He popped another pastry into his mouth. “Come along, do tuck in. You still have a pastry left,” he said and laughed.
As Serena reached for her second pastry, she could not help being rather glad that she had met him. This handsome man in a finely tailored pale green tailcoat with matching waistcoat and black breeches and knee boots seemed to her like rather good fun.
Serena knew herself to be rather good fun also, for the most part, but had known that she had never been encouraged in it. Her mother often had cause to speak to her about her unguarded nature and teasing manner, and yet Serena could not see any harm in it.
She rather thought that everyone around her was a little too serious, except in ways that mattered. They all seemed to seriously follow the rules of etiquette and modern manners but never seriously thought about the unions and attachments they made. Most particularly, among her friends, she had seen such traits. All the young ladies of her acquaintance were intent upon securing themselves husbands based on a list of criteria. However, Serena thought the criteria all wrong. Never was there a mention of the ideas and the personality of a potential suitor. So, in as far as that was concerned, Serena rather thought that the ideas of serious people were actually glib and frivolous. Serena thought it far better to be serious in intention but fun in nature. However, she had so far seemed to be very much alone in her outlook.
“Thank you.” Serena smiled as she took the second pastry. “I shall very much savour this since it is to be my last.”
“My name is Hugh Farrington,” he said and looked at her smiling.
“Ah, I see that the wind has changed,” Serena said, gently moc
king him.
“Indeed it has. As you see, I have no resolve whatsoever. I am a weak and frivolous man.” He gave a comical bow whilst he remained seated next to her. He really was very funny, and Serena could not help laughing.
“Well, perhaps I ought to join you in weakness and frivolity,” she said, smiling back at him. “My name is Serena Edison.”
“Ah, then you must be the daughter of the Baron and Baroness Edison, are you not?” he said, looking pleasantly surprised.
“Indeed, I am, Sir. That is how I come to know those dreadful leafy peacocks so very well.”
“I shall not hear them called dreadful, Miss Edison. They have saved me this day, and I shall be forever grateful to them.”
“Then I daresay you would get on terribly well with my mother. She is the only one in the family who goes in for great hedges carved into the shape of assorted birds and other wildlife.”
“I like her already, my dear.”
“And do I not already know your name, Sir? Are you not Lord Hugh Farrington of the Duchy of Calgarth?”
“I am, but I do rather veer away from any aspect of grandeur.” He grinned. “I should much prefer you called me Hugh.”
“Goodness me, one moment we are to remain nameless to one another, and the next, we are to be on first name terms. Such a blatant disregard of the way of things in society, Sir!” Serena began to laugh. “I think I rather knew that you would be interesting,” she went on.
“Well, I am glad not to have disappointed in any way.”
“No, you have not disappointed at all. You still very much strike me as just the sort of man who would canter along behind the cover of box hedging to avoid an acquaintance he does not wish to acknowledge. I am very much impressed, Hugh,” she said, adding his Christian name at the end most significantly.
Chapter Three
Having suffered a morning of the rather pinched annoyance of Gabriel, Hugh decided to set out on horseback to see his friend Charles Lockhart.
Gabriel seemed most intent on displaying his annoyance and frustration at the fact that Hugh had learned absolutely nothing from his conversation with Nigel Pettigrew. Since Charles Lockhart rarely complained about people calling upon him entirely unannounced, Hugh decided that he would take a little refuge in the home of his friend.
“I say, how nice to see you again,” Charles said as his butler showed Hugh into his large drawing room. “Is it too early for sherry?”
“It is barely half past ten, Charles,” Hugh said with a laugh as he made his way in and settled himself down on one of the deep and terribly comfortable armchairs.
Charles Lockhart had inherited the reasonable country estate when his father had died. It was still very much decorated in the taste of Charles’ long departed mother, and it had clearly been many years since anybody had thought to update things. However, it was a comfortable space, if a little too dark in colour.
The walls were lined with oak panelling and, despite the fact that it was a style still much in keeping with the fashions of the day, it had been poorly complemented with rather dark paintwork on the plain walls. Hugh rather liked the light and airy colours of the modern day, noting that most of the fashionable households went for pale yellows and greens everywhere. When Charles Lockhart’s mother had decided upon things, all those years ago, bottle greens and reds were everywhere abundant. Hugh could not help feeling that the darkness of the room rather made one feel as if they were in a cave of some sort.
“Oh, half past ten. Perfect,” Charles said as if mid-morning was the perfect hour for a healthy serving of sherry.
In truth, Hugh would have much preferred that Charles had rung the bell for tea but, when he saw his friend striding towards the well-stocked drinks table, he knew in his heart there was little chance of it.
“Here you go, old boy,” Charles said, handing him rather a large glass of sherry.
“I thank you,” Hugh said, taking a sip. “Your health, Charles.”
“And yours, Hugh,” Charles said before both men seated themselves again.
“So,” Charles began amiably. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company today, and at such an early hour?”
“In truth, I am rather escaping the Duke. He is still displeased with my performance with Nigel Pettigrew.”
“But surely he cannot expect you to find information where there clearly is none.”
“The problem is, Gabriel does not believe there is no information to be found. He is most intent upon us gaining the trust and favour of Nigel Pettigrew.”
“But is it not simply the case that Nigel Pettigrew has no interest in mining, nor even any interest in the fortunes of the Duchy of Horndean? After all, does he really have any particular associations with the Cunninghams?”
“It is hard to say, Charles. In truth, Nigel Pettigrew rather has associations with all. He aligns himself with none and seems to favour none. I know well that he has done business with both the Cunninghams and my own family.”
“Perhaps that is simply the sensible thing for a man in Pettigrew’s line of business to do,” Charles said, and Hugh found himself suddenly surprised at the display of common sense. Charles did not normally go in for common sense.
“You have voiced my opinion most exactly, Charles,” Hugh said, raising his sherry glass once more.
“Well, I do have my moments,” Charles said and shrugged it off. “And I am glad I have seen you today, for I have something to ask.”
“Pray do ask your question, Charles,” Hugh said, expecting some sort of favour to be about to make its way into their conversation.
“Where did you disappear to last week? I speak most specifically of our afternoon at the Rosedown Manor garden party. I know I had perhaps a glass too many, but it did not affect my eyesight. I know that you had simply disappeared, and I am keen to know what became of you.”
“Well, I had not disappeared entirely from the fine grounds of the Rosedown Manor estate. Rather I had simply disappeared from view. Most specifically the view of Miss Cecilia Bunsen and Lady Louisa Wilson.”
“Why?” Charles said, taking another great gulp of his sherry.
“Oh, I had got myself a little too entangled with the pair at Lord and Lady Blunt’s ball. It seemed like fun at the time, my dear chap, but once the champagne had worn off, I realised the error of my ways.”
“Oh, I see. So, the ladies are in pursuit, are they not?” Charles said with a hearty laugh. “And they have doubtless set up a friendly little rivalry between them to see who can first throw the net over your head.”
“I think you have it most exactly, Charles. However, having no intention of standing still whilst one of them threw a metaphorical net over me, I made myself scarce.”
“And where did you go? How did you manage such a thing?”
“I hid,” Hugh said, truthfully.
“Hid?” Charles said and boomed with laughter. “But where?”
“Behind two giant peacocks, two giant spheres, a row of box hedging screen, and finally the camellia garden.”
“I am not even going to ask. That explanation sounds terribly complicated. Let us get to the end, shall we? You made your way to the camellia garden. Am I to take it that you hid successfully quite alone until the end of the garden party? I rather wondered why I did not set eyes upon you again.”
“I did hide, Charles, but I was not alone,” Hugh said, with a grin.
“You jump from one situation to another, my dear Hugh. I almost dare not ask; who was the unfortunate female this time?” Charles said, with a knowing wink.
“It was Miss Serena Edison,” Hugh said simply.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, man!” Charles said seeming a little upended. “Now, she is the daughter of a good friend of mine. I wish you would have a little decorum.”
“My dear Charles, I had a lot of decorum,” Hugh said, smiling defensively. “And I did not seek out the young lady; quite the reverse.”
“Serena Edison sought you
out?” Charles said, incredulously.
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Hugh wondered quite how he would explain the whole thing out to Charles, given that the man was about to embark upon his second large sherry and was not particularly blessed with a keen wit. “Miss Edison saw me making my escape from Cecilia Bunsen and Lady Louisa Wilson. I had not realised that she saw me creeping away, and she apparently found the whole thing rather amusing. Anyway, I shall cut out all the complicated parts in the middle and get immediately to the part where Miss Edison was already waiting for me in the camellia garden by the time I arrived. And so, you see, I was in no way the predator. I am blameless on this occasion, Charles.” Hugh gave the sort of laugh that a man never gives in the company of women.
“Perhaps you were blameless to start, but I dread to ask how the tale ends.” Charles said, wincing.
“Actually, we just talked. She is a terribly nice young lady,” Hugh said and smiled.
“What did you talk about?”
“Nothing in particular. I suppose in a way we touched upon the ridiculousness of etiquette and modern manners.”
“Really?” Charles said, screwing his face up a little in confusion.
“Yes, really,” Hugh said thinking it unlikely that a recitation of the witty conversation that had passed between himself and Serena would be of any interest to Charles, even if he did understand it. “She is rather fun, I think.”
“I must admit not to having been in conversation with the young lady very much, but I am rather under the impression that she is perhaps a little too clever for her own good,” Charles said with a shrug.
“How so?”
“I believe that she is never afraid to speak her mind and that she is not terribly impressed by gentlemen who are not possessed of a keen wit.” Charles looked unimpressed suddenly. Hugh could not help wondering if Charles had been one of those men.
“Well, she is rather beautiful. I have no doubt that she has suffered the attentions of many a dull man,” Hugh said, feeling suddenly rather puffed up at the idea that she did not seem to have found him so. In truth, he had rather thought she had enjoyed his company.
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