A Country Masquerade

by Margaret McGaffey Fisk

  “Surely we could suffer to stay for the next dance,” he said, nodding toward the man even as he struggled to remember a name to go with the face.

  “Lord Aubrey. Lady Isabella. A pleasure.”

  Before Aubrey could reveal the blunder of forgetting the man’s name, Isabella sank into a curtsy, her cheeks stained red. “Mr. Ingham. A pleasure to see you again.”

  As though they’d exhausted the full of their conversation, the two only stared at each other, raising Aubrey’s hopes for all they’d hardly spoken.

  “I see the musicians are preparing for the next set,” he commented in an attempt to prompt Mr. Ingham. The gentleman might not have a title, but surely their mother had to see the value in any partner for his youngest sister, if only in hopes she might grow accustomed to stepping out.

  Mr. Ingham coughed once. “I suppose your dance card is all full. I’m surprised I didn’t notice you out there.”

  Isabella dropped her gaze at that, her shoulders curled in embarrassment.

  To save her the answer, Aubrey spoke for her, “I believe this dance is still open.”

  A quick smiled broke the young man’s serious expression for a heartbeat before his hand came forward in offer. “Would you grant me the pleasure of this dance?”

  Isabella didn’t hesitate and Aubrey soon enjoyed the sight of his sister taking her place on the dance floor after all.

  “Just how did you manage that,” Lady St. Vincent said, returning to his side.

  “I think I had little enough to do with it.”

  She raised her monocle to get a better look. “Why isn’t that Mr. Ingham? She better be careful not to dance with him a third time. Even though it’s not the same event, she moves off the wall so seldom people will talk.”

  Aubrey stifled a sigh at having his hopes dashed. It seemed the young man had value enough for one dance, but no more than that.

  Isabella seemed not to benefit from his efforts any more than those of his mother, and the last thing she needed was to be scolded for doing what he had encouraged. She needed to choose to engage with more than just Mr. Ingham. Until she did, events would be wasted on her no matter who stood at her side. At least their mother would steer her away from errors Aubrey cared too little about to notice.

  It wasn’t as though he had any other purpose for being here. Of all of this year’s debutantes, only Lady Barbara had sparked more than the mildest of appreciation, and she’d left London all together. Those that remained held little interest, if they didn’t actively repel him as did Lady Emily.

  Again, his thoughts turned to linger on the one who was absent. He’d been too quick to judge her before with the result that he’d lost the opportunity to discover his error. Yet somehow he’d managed to offend her even so.

  Maybe his judgment had been damaged by the sudden urgency to find his match, making him both too eager and too critical all at once.

  He’d seen Jasper’s love for Daphne grow until it became a motive force. Aubrey wanted just a fraction of that for himself, no longer willing to wait some indefinite amount of time for his own moment to come to be. Perhaps the Lady Pendleton was a true original, a unique property never to grace the London scene again. Still, he refused to lower his standards and pick a companion at random. He’d been instrumental in bringing the two of them together. Surely he could do the same for himself.

  His gaze wandered to where Isabella danced with only a little stiffness to show for her lack of experience outside the schoolroom. She had so much to offer if only given the chance. But with all the bright flowers, those able to laugh, tease, and draw attention, she’d been easy to overlook.

  She’d compared his status to that of Lady Barbara with a flock of hopefuls surrounding him at all times. Where he’d been quick to call her out to Jasper as the master of her fate, Lady Barbara could as easily have said the same of him, though he did not seek the attention of any lady beyond herself.

  Just as he’d wished he’d known a direct approach would work against Lady Emily, how many of those eager girls would have been delighted to discover a telling glance and a quick thrust spur could secure his notice.

  Aubrey laughed aloud then had to shake his head at his mother’s inquiring look. At least the dance seemed to be coming to an end. He’d be no fit company this night or any other with his inability to learn the cause of Lady Barbara’s cut. Likely he’d try a sharp tone on the next mother to drag her daughter forward to meet him, offending them and his parent.

  Denied the chance to solve his mystery, he might do best to follow her lead and leave London all together. Perhaps the time had come to take Jasper up on his offer after all.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  We’ll make a country girl out of you soon enough,” Georgie said as Barbara wiped her brow free of sweat with a dirt-encrusted hand. “Already you’ve lost the squeamishness of a Londoner.”

  Barbara dropped back onto the unturned soil around the kitchen garden and laughed up at her youngest cousin. “If ever I had such. I doubt my parents thought on the risks when they sent me here.” She lifted one hand, the sun having brought a darker color to her flesh and calluses beginning to form on her fingers after a week of helping her cousins with the chores. “I’ll be quite the vision on the ballroom floor.”

  “Oh, pish. You’ll be a vision even with freckles marking your nose and you know it.”

  Barbara fought down a desperate need for a mirror and knew she’d failed to hide the response when Georgie melted to the dirt next to her, tears rolling down her face from the force of her laughter.

  “If you could only see your expression,” Georgie gasped out. “As though freckles were a symptom of a disease and next you’d lose your limbs.”

  Fingers curled into the soil, and Barbara tossed a handful of dirt at her cousin in retaliation for the teasing.

  Georgie was quick to respond in kind, both trying hard not to laugh for fear of some landing in an open mouth.

  “Girls, really. Must you carry on so?” Charlotte stood over them, a grin on her own face despite her words. “And no, Cousin Barbara, you have no freckles on your nose or elsewhere, though if you lie down so the brim of your bonnet doesn’t shade your features, I can’t speak for the future. Now get to the weeding with both of you or the vegetables will be choked out and there’ll be none for our meals.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Georgie said, sticking her tongue out once her older sister’s back had turned. “She’s not that much older than either of us, but you wouldn’t guess it from how she comports herself.”

  Barbara swallowed a protest, knowing better than to get between the four sisters. Charlotte had taken on the task of managing the household and raising her sisters when their mother died of a sudden illness. It was an unenviable responsibility, and one she should be lauded for, not condemned.

  Her thoughts halted for a moment, and Barbara had to admit didn’t know if she’d feel the same with her sibling, had she had one, elevated from sister to parent between one day and the next.

  “We’d best be back at work,” she offered instead, standing up to shake the dirt from her dress and hair. She settled the bonnet more firmly around her face as well, remembering Charlotte’s warning.

  The beginning of her visit had passed quickly, full of learning new tasks and following her cousins around. They’d yet to have the chance to ride, as they’d done when much younger, but Charlotte led many an expedition into the surrounding countryside, and even the forest, after berries, flowers, and all manner of herbs.

  Her cousin had been studying with the village midwife whenever she could spare a moment, saying only that knowing how to fix a body could prove useful. Barbara suspected the interest came from a lingering guilt for not being present to tend her mother, though from what Barbara understood, not even the most skilled of doctors could have changed what occurred.

  In watching the focus Charlotte gave to every task, even managing her unruly sisters, Barbara saw the lack in her own existence. He
r parents might not have intended the calluses, but this they’d hoped for her to see, or so she suspected.

  Life held much more than an endless round of balls and poetry readings, not all of it good, but every moment precious. What they saw as a lightness of spirit, though, she knew to have been spite. The further Barbara came from that time, the more she regretted letting a harsh word push her to such actions.

  Having Aubrey St. Vincent absent from her view surely helped Barbara gain some perspective, though still he lingered in her thoughts and not always for his condemnation. She’d spent too long developing her feelings for them to vanish so quickly, but she had no intention of ever seeking out his company and would avoid his presence as much as possible once she returned to London. She might have come to regret her actions, but she refused to forgive him his.

  This time away had opened her eyes to the truth of the situation. More than not suiting, the two of them made a toxic combination as dangerous as some of the herbs Charlotte had them gather.

  Her cousin had carefully explained how, in small doses, something strong could be an aid as much as a danger and so worth gathering. Such might be true of herbs, but Barbara found the reverse in people. A little of Aubrey’s presence only drove her to worse frivolity. Whether a stronger dose would prove to make her even wilder or would become as nothing, she had no way of knowing, nor any intention of finding out. The man had, after all, been a true louse.

  JASPER AND DAPHNE GREETED AUBREY’s arrival with delight even though he had not taken the time between decision and setting out to send a messenger ahead.

  “Nothing worse than the season to send a man running for the hills,” Jasper said over dinner.

  Daphne gave him a sharp look that held so much love any anger had been wiped from it. “You think it’s so much better for the girls? There are as many who would flee if given the chance as look forward to their season.”

  Aubrey speared a piece of roast chicken with his fork as he nodded. “Isabella is surely one of those. If not for my mother’s pressing, she’d have avoided coming out altogether.” He stared down at his plate as he added, “Not that it’s doing her much good.”

  Jasper brushed a hand over his wife’s fingers. “I’m happy to have saved you from that.”

  She laughed. “As if you had any intention of doing so. Your mother pushed me as much as mine did, throwing me into a contract without even the chance to spin across the dance floor.”

  It was almost as though the two of them had forgotten Aubrey’s presence all together. He’d teased Jasper about having grown tired of each other’s company, but any fool could see their attraction had only deepened. The skeptic had found just what Aubrey sought so fruitlessly.

  “It is not your type of dance,” Aubrey said. “Much too confined.”

  “Refined, you mean. With every step known and even training on what to say to your partner should the chance to speak occur. It’s a wonder anyone thinks to choose a mate when every attempt is made to make all of the debutantes conform to the same standards.”

  Aubrey laughed to hear his own thoughts from a woman. “Though one would think a nature of distinction would break through even so. I can’t imagine you’d have faded into the background.”

  “Just ask Jasper how well I hid my nature. He dismissed me without a single moment of consideration.”

  She laughed, but he detected the smallest hint of irritation beneath her statement.

  “And now I know my true purpose in coming here whatever I might have thought. I can relieve that lingering annoyance as I tell you without a single doubt in my mind Jasper did not dismiss you one bit. He may have wanted to, he may have tried, but from the moment he described his first encounter, I knew the man was in trouble.”

  “Hey, now. You’re supposed to keep my secrets,” Jasper exclaimed, though with no force behind the words.

  “Like you kept mine?” Daphne said, her eyebrows rising.

  “Until I’d obtained your permission.”

  “You would have been gratified to see it, Aubrey. The badgering, the seemingly innocent comments about how much easier it would be if you only knew the truth. Of course I gave in. I wouldn’t have had a moment of peace otherwise.”

  So it went through the rest of the meal, Aubrey becoming ever more aware, no matter how much they tried to include him, he’d entered a place that revolved around the two of them so neatly he’d be forever reminded of his lack.

  Daphne pushed to her feet. “Though we don’t follow London rules here on most days, tonight I think I’ll put in some extra practice and let you gentlemen talk.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Aubrey protested though he appreciated the gesture.

  Daphne waved off his objection, already on her way out of the room. He saw in her determination both the stubborn nature that had frustrated Jasper, and the conviction that secured his friend’s heart.

  “Don’t argue when she gets that look in her eye,” Jasper counseled. “It’s the secret to a happy marriage. Now you better have something fascinating to tell me, because I love to watch my wife dance.”

  They rose as well, Aubrey grinning at his friend. “How well I know that. I’d thought for a moment last year you’d give up everything for the privilege.”

  “And so I would have had I not discovered my heart and fate had fallen in the same trap as impossible as it would have been to imagine at the time.”

  A fire crackled in the study, making the room inviting. Aubrey settled into one of the chairs as he wondered just how to entertain his friend.

  “So what’s the true reason you’ve come,” Jasper said before Aubrey could find a good enough topic. “I know you too well to think you’d have abandoned your little sister to the dangers of society without cause. No matter how grueling the season may have been, there are entertainments enough to keep you away from the debutantes should you choose without quitting the environs to bury yourself in the country. You never were one for the country life.”

  Aubrey accepted the glass of fine cognac to gain a little more time, but he stared at the rich brown liquid instead of taking a sip. “I had little choice in the matter. Not all of us were raised on a country estate. It’s not enough to miss my best friend’s company?”

  Jasper burst out with a laugh. “No, not in the slightest. Especially when I was up there to see you not so long ago. Unless I miss my guess, from your sideways glances whenever my wife and I tease, it has to do with a woman. Don’t tell me you’ve found your perfect match and are now dragging your feet? You’ve been planning this since you grew out of a tutor’s care.”

  Aubrey scowled at his friend, though he shouldn’t have been surprised at Jasper’s perception. “No, nothing like that. It’s more the opposite what with none of the young ladies inspiring more than a passing glance. Daphne is correct in stating their natures are trained out of them, but how’s a man supposed to find his match? I even had one mother suggest I could not know the truth of my bride until after the vows are spoken.”

  He dropped his gaze to the amber liquid, spinning the glass in a slow circle. “It seems chance has more to do with matches working than any deliberation. Why even my parents said their accord came into being as they settled into a life conjoined.” Aubrey’s mouth twisted up on one side. “I heartily question whether your parents planned on struggling to tolerate each other’s presence long enough to bring forth a child, much less three.”

  “And I doubt you came for courting advice. From your sour expressions, observing wedded bliss to convince yourself that mother had the right of it was not the aim either.”

  Aubrey offered his friend one of those sour expressions right then but soon gave up in face of Jasper’s intent look. “I don’t know why I came. Really, I don’t. I just couldn’t spend one more moment there.”

  Jasper finally settled into a chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “So what changed? You were determined to see this through when last we spoke despite your qualms about
the available ladies, and I doubt your mother is so fully recovered that Isabella would not appreciate your company…or perhaps she’d appreciate it more with your mother well once again.”

  A chuckle broke through Aubrey’s glum mood as he considered the idea. “True enough, though she felt me a traitor this past week as I eagerly sought the very events that plagued her.”

  “You?” The chair creaked as Jasper leaned closer. “What brought about this change?”

  “Would you believe a cut direct? Though she wasn’t as direct as all that.”

  “Ah ha! Now we get to the heart of it. This is about a woman.”

  Aubrey leapt to his feet, unable to stay still any longer. “About a woman, perhaps, but not really. It’s just the first thing to catch my interest this season. She shied her horse to avoid meeting me. I know nothing much about her, or why she would find me so repellent. I’ve never even spoken to her.” The mocking he’d suffer should Jasper learn her name would only be worsened if his friend sought The Dowager Lady Pendleton’s help in procuring an answer. Aubrey chose to keep that piece of information to himself for the time being.

  Jasper shook his head. “If only all those hopefuls understood the way to catch your attention was to reject it. I’ll bet many an aspiring mother would be thrilled to be listening in at this moment.”

  “Mock me all you like, Jasper Pendleton, but you stand on unstable ground. How was it again your weathered heart found it could be claimed? Your lady wife had to parade about in a mask.”

  “Don’t let Daphne hear you speak so. She’d be the first to correct your assumptions as she donned the mask to avoid our happiness much more than to lay claim to it.”

  Aubrey shrugged, conceding the point without a battle. “It’s just that mystery won your attention when no other young lady had achieved success. Now I have a mystery of my own to solve, and I’m at a loss as to how.”