A Country Masquerade

by Margaret McGaffey Fisk

  Whatever she’d expected, that had never crossed Barbara’s mind as something Sarah might have spoken. “Spend my virtue on someone who has so little respect for me that he didn’t seek to discover my full name? What has come over you? If my parents ever heard of such a thing, I’d be bound for life to the horrid man.”

  Sarah had raised her hands between them before Barbara came anywhere near to the end of her statements, and they waved furiously until Barbara ran out of words.

  “I didn’t mean to compromise yourself. Never that. I meant only to give him the chance to know you without…well…knowing you.” She grinned. “It seems an appropriate retribution for him to have lost your regard out of arrogance and to learn the truth of what he cast away without even trying because of ignorance.”

  Her friend’s words made all too much sense as Barbara pondered them. “And here I thought you frowned on punishing him for his wrongdoing.”

  “This isn’t punishment exactly.” The words came out in a drawl as Sarah considered her answer. “It’s more to offer an education. You said yourself how you wished to reveal his true nature to the ton. How he deserves for the innocent girls he deceives to know the truth. Well, you cannot manage that without revealing his statements about your own person, which would only raise gossip with you at the center as a spurned woman. This way, he’s taught the lesson and suffers for his arrogance while you’re left the innocent party who stood fast against his advances.”

  Barbara shook her head, though not in disagreement, as she rolled off the bed so they could both tuck under the covers. “My mother would be shocked to find such a devious plot came from your making. She’s sure I have been at the root of every bit of trouble we’ve ever been in.”

  Sarah turned to her side so she could look at Barbara. “She’d be right. My parents would shudder to learn how you’ve rubbed off on me. I’m sure they dreamed our friendship would elevate my station, never knowing what a troublemaker you were. Your mother would have me cast out on the streets.”

  “Never. I wouldn’t let her. You’ll be at my side when we’re both grey-headed and beyond all this.”

  “You may be happy to settle into a spinster life to the disappointment of all your suitors, but I hope someday to find my own match.”

  Barbara laughed as her friend’s gaze turned inward. “I have a suspicion you just might have already. But you’ll always have a place at my side, and in my household. Your imagined husband as well. I cannot afford to lose you. Who else would be daring enough not only to call me out for my errors but to concoct plans such as this one to revenge me on my detractors?”

  Sinking to her back, Sarah drew the coverlet up to her chin. “No one else, I’m sure. Not that you listen except when my suggestions match so perfectly to your own thoughts they might as well have come from you. But we have a full day ahead of us tomorrow, I’m sure, and we’ll regret having spent all night in chatter soon enough.”

  Though she went to return with a teasing phrase, Barbara’s face split into a yawn that she changed to a laugh. “Whatever my mind may say, my body is matched to your words.”

  “Dream of Aubrey St. Vincent,” Sarah murmured. “And of teaching him a lesson he’ll never forget.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  So they’re coming here now?”

  Aubrey walked in on his friends in conversation at breakfast the next morning.

  “Did you doubt it? I’m offering a grand opportunity few would have the chance of otherwise. Why wouldn’t they?”

  Jasper held up both hands. “Of course I didn’t doubt you capable of doing whatever you set your mind to. You’ve proved it often enough. I just didn’t think it would happen so quickly. These are not ladies of leisure after all.”

  “What ladies?” Aubrey asked, hardly paying attention as he collected his breakfast from the board.

  Daphne gave him a smile that could only be characterized as smug. “The young women of the neighborhood. The first lesson will be today.”

  Anticipation shot through Aubrey with enough force to jerk his arm so he almost lost his breakfast roll. “All the young women?”

  She read more in his expression than he’d have liked, despite having been the one to encourage his attraction, but her pitying look gave little hope. “While not ladies of leisure, those who come are the daughters of landholders.”

  “And not simple servants who have more than enough to keep themselves busy.” He finished her sentence, trying to sound disinterested and not let the disappointment show.

  “Exactly,” Jasper cut in, unaware of the conversation between his wife and Aubrey the previous evening. “A bunch of barely educated girls who have yet to find a husband. You came here to escape the season only to have it thrust upon you. If even half the tales you’ve told us about young ladies and their mothers trying to secure your interest are true, Daphne’s pupils must fill you with dread. It’s not much of a consolation, but I’m off to inspect the mill repairs after some damage from a lightning strike. You’ll join me of course. Maybe afterward we can go down to the local tavern and hear a tale or two of the old days when the fields were richer, the women more lovely, and the ale stronger than any man would want to sip.”

  Aubrey laughed at the description, conceding when he had no good reason to linger about the manor. From the state of her dress compared to the others, and the way she hung back in his presence, she was unlikely to be a wealthy man’s daughter. As such, she was sure to work every waking hour just to keep bread on the table. Though conditions out here where even the poor could scratch out a piece of land were better than in London, still survival meant working hard with neither inheritance nor significant farmland to keep a body.

  “The man I brought out from London has some innovative ideas on gearing. The lightning struck at just the right angle to shift the stone and damage the mechanism so it needed major repairs. I thought why not try something new if we have to do the work in any case.”

  Aubrey forced himself to concentrate on what his friend was saying, pushing all thought of the lovely Barbara from his mind. “I remember now. You mentioned him as why you’d come up to London.”

  Jasper nodded then shook his head. “To employ him was part. Things tend to accumulate when you’re isolated in the country. There’s always a dozen or more things to attend to on such a trip.”

  They finished the meal with Jasper waxing eloquent about the man and his grand ideas, almost as though Jasper could claim some form of ownership over them. His friend’s enthusiasm proved catching, and by the time they headed out for this inspection, he’d come to terms with the trip and even looked forward to seeing how the new mill worked.

  “We’ll just have to hope someone brings over grain so we can see a test right then and there. Our stores were running too low to wait so I sent the grain to the next closest mill already.”

  Aubrey suppressed a smile at how quickly his mind leapt to the possibility that a servant would do such a task where she wouldn’t attend a dancing lesson. It had little weight though, what with the mill only now becoming usable. No master would send a servant to verify the fix, especially not with word sure to spread about the new workings. Like Jasper, anyone with the wherewithal to get his grain mill ground would most likely come himself.

  “I HAVE NO NEED OF dancing lessons, Uncle. You know that. And for all Charlotte has been teaching me, you wouldn’t want me trying to do the farm work on my own.”

  Uncle Ferrier brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as though suffering from a headache. He’d been resistant ever since she caught him in his study this morning.

  Barbara could only hope this showed a sign of him weakening. “Besides, if I followed my cousins to the manor, I’d prove nothing but a distraction as surely the lady would want word of London from one more recently there. Little teaching would occur with us chatting about things my cousins have no experience with.”

  He lowered his hand to look at her in a silence long enough to beco
me uncomfortable.

  Just when she thought he’d never speak, he said, “Your parents put you in my charge, Barbara. They sent you here to cage your wild tendencies, not so you could indulge in them.”

  She twisted her fingers together as she sent him a pleading look. “It’s only a ride. I did the same in London often enough.”

  His bark of laughter startled her into taking a backward step.

  “Well I remember your idea of a simple ride, and I doubt you did anything like it within the city parks. Had you done so, word of your exploits would have arrived much faster than your parents’ letter begging me to get you in order when they had given up hope for the task.”

  Barbara’s shoulders slumped. “I wasn’t as bad as all that, Uncle,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  He raised a hand to tick off on his fingers. “You toyed with men’s affections. You held them wanting even after they’d attempted an offer, denying them happiness with any other. You kept them from choosing other girls, and even set them against each other from what your parents implied.”

  “I did none of those things,” she burst out. “I neither encouraged them to propose nor gave them any hope when they did. Is it my fault that they could not engage my interest?”

  Again he observed her as though considering the truth in her words. A tiny spark of hope came to life that he would look beyond her parents’ missive to see her true self.

  Uncle Ferrier shook his head. “Whether you did so on purpose or because you didn’t know how to discourage them once their interest was set matters little. You were well on your way to gaining a reputation, and not of the good sort. You need ruling by a firmer hand than my sister possesses. She put all her hopes into the one child she brought living into this world. I won’t betray their trust in me on a girl’s whim.”

  “You’ll force me to go to the manor?”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Is it such a punishment?”

  She could offer no answer to that, or at least none she wanted to share.

  Then he shook his head. “But no, your arguments have the ring of truth. I wouldn’t spare you from tedium, but there is little point in sending my daughters for some refining when the opportunity arises and then make sure to distract their teacher. I’ve sometimes wondered if that lack weakened Charlotte’s standing when your mother brought her onto the scene.”

  He shrugged, dismissing his thoughts in favor of narrowing his gaze on her. “However, you’re right as well that you have not the skill to work on the farm alone. I’d have you work alongside Cook with as much baking as there is to be done, but I’m off to the mill to see the repairs and get some more flour ground since our supplies are running low. Besides, with the other girls freed of their chores, it seems more punishment than not to have you and Sarah still labor.”

  “So giving us horses would be the perfect solution. It’s been many summers since you’ve seen me ride, but I promise you both of us can keep our seats on a sidesaddle.”

  His hands slapped flat on the desk. “If you think I should recall your skills, then you know full well I put no truck with sidesaddles. They are a danger to horse, rider, and anyone in reach.”

  Barbara smothered her smile to give a contrite nod. “It’s only that we can because we must. Our skills would be so much greater astride, and the dangers lessened.”

  He heaved a sigh. “You should have been born a boy, Barbara. You think I haven’t noticed you picking up my paper when I’m done. Politics are no place for a woman. Had you been your father’s son, you’d have persuaded the most resistant in your path.”

  A warm glow overtook her at his praise, though he thought her gender should confine her as did most. “Does this mean you’ll allow it? The ride, I mean?”

  Uncle Ferrier shoved to his feet. “Yes.” He paused at her delighted squeal. “And no. Your parents would never forgive me if I let you go riding wild with only Sarah, another young woman, as escort. As I mentioned, I’m off to see the mill repairs. The lord brought in some innovator from London itself to design the gearing. You and Sarah can join me on horseback.”

  The prospect of a canter vanished, but at least she’d get some time riding, and her uncle boasted a refined stable for a man of his station thanks to careful breeding rather than expensive purchases. Whereas the likely sedate pace failed to bring forth a protest, a sudden memory of her cousin speaking on the mill almost did. Charlotte had been concerned about the state of the flour stores and mentioned the mill stood firmly on the Pendleton Manor lands, just where Barbara had not wanted to go. But how could she cry off now after having pleaded for the chance of a ride?

  “It’s settled then. Gather Sarah and your bonnet. We leave shortly.”

  Barbara wandered from the room, caught up in her tangled thoughts. As much as she’d wanted to stay far from the manor, surely Aubrey St. Vincent had little interest in farming matters, of which a mill would count as one. She doubted he knew where the flour he consumed came from, not that she would have either without her cousin’s lessons. He’d shown no interest in country matters from what she’d seen, focused much more on the events in the political realm.

  Satisfied in her thinking, she ran off to find Sarah and apprise her friend of their plans. Not that Sarah had expected to go to the manor anyway though she might have wanted to for the chance of a glimpse at that servant who had caught her eye the other day.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  After an awkward moment of Barbara and Sarah figuring out how to spread their skirts to maintain decorum, something she hadn’t thought much of when a child, they set out, each horse carrying a sack of grain to be ground slung over its withers.

  They rode alongside the wagon carrying the cousins to their dance lesson at first, but to Barbara’s relief, the paths split, taking the wagon off to the manor while the riders sought the mill.

  The warm late morning sun made for a pleasant ramble if not the canter she’d been hoping for.

  Uncle Ferrier pointed out different landmarks, and though she knew some of the earlier ones from her work in the fields with her cousins, soon they passed beyond where she had been.

  “That hill yonder is said to have been claimed by the fey in olden times,” he said. “Some think forest nymphs, called dryads, still linger there.”

  Barbara gave the space a close look, reminded of how Aubrey had claimed them nymphs when he came across them. Perhaps he knew more of the country than she’d thought.

  A spike of nerves thrust through her as she considered whether that meant an interest in the mill, but she laughed aloud at her foolishness. Had she not heard the many mentions of the fey in poetry and play alike? More likely he had picked up the phrase from the theater than the country folks, especially considering his quick dismissal of the cousins’ offer of a basket. Gathering berries and grinding flour would be as far from his interests as they’d been from her London life.

  She thrust her worries aside, determined to enjoy what the day had to offer without the specter of Aubrey hanging over it. “So tell me about this mill then,” she told her uncle, maneuvering up to his side on a path meant for farm wagons.

  Though all attempts to draw her uncle into conversation regarding politics or economics had failed, it seemed mechanisms had become as much of a focus as his horses. He entertained them for the rest of the ride with descriptions of the gearing at every stage, having been a frequent visitor since he’d heard the lord thought to bring up the mill in a different fashion than it had been.

  His enthusiasm proved so compelling, Barbara was startled to see the tall stone structure appear before them as though by magic, her attention firmly fixed on him rather than the land about her.

  “It looks like we’re not the only ones who wish to see its first working.” Uncle Ferrier kneed his horse faster in his eagerness.

  Barbara followed the path of his gaze to see two men standing beside a third who wore a thick canvas apron. It took only a moment to recognize the nearer of the two
, but the delay was long enough for Aubrey to glance their way.

  His gaze unerringly sought out hers as though he’d somehow known she would appear.

  Her heart pounded faster as he stared much too boldly to be proper, and her hands grew slick against the reins.

  The horse, a steady if unimpressive ride up to this point, gave a small buck and half-reared in response to the sudden tightening of her knees against its sides, sending the grain sack hard against her chest.

  Barbara fought for control, not wanting to chance being thrown and injured, but just when she lay on the brink of achieving it, she realized success meant continuing down the path toward Aubrey. She was not ready to meet with him, not with Sarah’s plan lingering in her mind with all its temptations, nor with her own responses suspect as they had been since Marian suggested she take advantage of his ignorance for an unladylike exploration.

  She let the horse rear a second time as though a snake lay in her path, nudging the beast with one knee so it twisted to land with its head toward the fields rather than the mill.

  Her palfrey needed no further encouragement, especially with the sack slamming down on its shoulders. It broke into a run, soon taking her out of sight.

  Even knowing the scolding she’d receive, Barbara let the horse settle into a canter from its panicked flight, giving the horse its head. She’d paid good enough attention to the landmarks her uncle described in the beginning of their journey. She would not get lost, though she doubted her knowledge compared to that of her horse who would be eager to return to the stable and a measure of feed.

  The wind rushing through her hair and the muscles moving beneath her gave Barbara such joy she threw back her head to laugh only to find she couldn’t stop, an edge of hysteria having captured her. She imagined the look on Aubrey’s face as she turned from him and ran for the second time though he remained unaware of that fact. She’d always seen herself as a grounded, serious sort. Adding Aubrey to the mix seemed to strip away those qualities in favor of yet another flighty girl.