A Country Masquerade

by Margaret McGaffey Fisk

  The thought finally calmed her enough to hear the pounding hooves coming up on her. She twisted in her saddle, a feat only possible because she sat astride, to see Sarah charging up.

  “Glad you can find reason to laugh,” her friend said when she reached speaking distance. “Your uncle is not pleased.”

  That drove the last of the humor from Barbara, hysterical or not. She lowered her gaze to avoid Sarah’s reproving look and slowed her horse even more than when she’d heard Sarah coming, chastened.

  They completed the journey in a solemn walk, the absence of a grain sack on Sarah’s palfrey a further strike against Barbara.

  Her friend had clearly taken the time to deliver the grain before coming after her, the reason for the delay and further sign neither Sarah nor Uncle Ferrier had been taken in by the illusion of a snake. They had not feared for her well-being, only her behavior.

  Aubrey St. Vincent brought out the worst in her no matter what she intended.

  At that very moment, Barbara decided to put Sarah’s plan into effect. Today had shown her folly in thinking she could avoid the man and proved how little control she had when trying to do so. Instead, she would act on her feelings to draw him in. She would not be the one to suffer from his presence any longer.

  That honor would fall on his silky head as he unwittingly revealed his true nature to one who had both the position and the connections to expose him to the ton and to all those eager girls he sought to beguile for his own mockery. When she finished with him, he, not those still in white dresses, would be the one subjected to scorn, and she would be the instrument of his downfall.

  “PITY YOUR ENGINEER COULDN’T come down again now the work is complete,” the miller said before shooting Ferrier a grin. “You have another sack of grain?”

  Ferrier and Jasper mirrored the miller’s expression, but Aubrey couldn’t share their enthusiasm, distracted as he was by the near accident he’d witnessed.

  “Sarah’s a good girl. She left hers before taking after Barbara.”

  “Are you sure Barbara has the skill to get a wild horse under control?” Aubrey could no longer hold back the question, unsatisfied by the farmer’s even demeanor.

  Ferrier gave Aubrey a tight look and clapped him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you come with me to fetch it? Those two will just have to make do discussing the previous grinds.” Though his words implied disinterest, he’d been the first to exclaim at the finely ground flour the new machinery achieved.

  Aubrey followed the man out, unsurprised when he paused next to the grain sack and showed no interest in picking it up. Instead, Ferrier stared along the path Barbara had taken, a direction that claimed Aubrey’s attention as easily.

  “You needn’t worry about the girl,” Ferrier said after a moment. “She’s got as good a seat as the best of them. Been riding since she was able to walk, and on a proper saddle too.”

  Aubrey didn’t glance at the other man, but nodded. “I could see as much myself when the horse reared, but it still took her off too fast to get my horse to follow.”

  Ferrier shook his head, his frown making Aubrey nervous. “Your care for the well-being of those around you is fine, Lord Aubrey, but she is not your concern. You wouldn’t have reached her had you been on horse, if I know my Barbara. She and I will exchange a word or two when I return.”

  The underlying message came through clearly.

  The man suspected her of pretending trouble to get out of her duties. Aubrey hadn’t seen any sign of the snake that could have startled her horse, and if she were as good a seat as Ferrier believed, she should have been able to stop any bolt before they’d gone out of sight, no matter how perturbed her palfrey.

  He said nothing further, not wanting the farmer to grow even more irate at the poor girl than he was already. She hadn’t seemed the type to run from simple labor, whether she found interest in the mill improvements or not, but without a half-crushed snake for proof, he had no way to show her innocence, and with the careful use of his title, Ferrier made it clear what he thought of Aubrey’s interference. Barbara would be the one to suffer for it as well should he persist.

  Saying nothing more, Aubrey swept up half of the sack and let Ferrier lift the other end.

  The awkward burden bridged the silence, and by the time they laid it on the shelf so the miller could load more grain onto the edged grinding surface, the farmer seemed caught up in the innovation once again.

  Aubrey could not contest the efficiency or elegance of the gears as they maneuvered a heavy stone over the grains and crushed them to powder. On any other day, he’d have been the first to need a warning not to lean too close. Today, though, the vision of dark curls streaming free as his country girl beat a swift retreat kept pushing to the forefront until he barely noticed the events before him.

  “So you have the time to put your horse through its paces on the morrow?”

  Jasper’s voice brought Aubrey from yet another daydream, the contents of his speech too important to miss.

  “In the morning will do fine. He’ll be rested and eager for the exercise.”

  As they’d worked the mill, Aubrey learned Ferrier was none other than the breeder with the remarkable stock, a better explanation for the quality of the horses both he and the two girls had ridden than that he had the funds to purchase same. No wonder his servant knew her way around a horse. She’d likely grown up beside a stable many a nobleman could not boast and had a hand at exercising the beasts when necessary. Aubrey smiled to hear Ferrier’s agreement, though not at the prospect of admiring even prime horseflesh.

  He’d wondered just how he would put Daphne’s plan into effect, having no idea where Barbara came from or how to cross paths another time. Now he had the hope of seeing her the very next day, though she’d be busy about her chores and he’d been committed to the viewing.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Barbara noticed her uncle’s return first, her senses tuned toward the stable though she shelled peas with Sarah and her cousins in the kitchen. The cousins had come back from their dance lessons excited and chatty, so her distraction didn’t stand out until she tensed, the blood draining from her face.

  “What’s wrong?” Sarah asked.

  Before she could answer, Uncle Ferrier burst in the kitchen door, his arm filled with not one but two flour sacks.

  He dumped them on the table sending pea pods flying and casting up a cloud of grey dust. “Your parents sent you here to learn to consider others, not pretend a snake and go off on a half-wild horse,” he ground out, not even acknowledging Cook or his daughters. “And in your time here the best you’ve learned is how to choose your moment to disobey, knowing I could not abandon the mill to track you down.”

  She shrank away from him, hard peas springing out of the pod in her hands.

  He planted a hand on either side of her from across the table, looming over Barbara. “Did you think my anger would cool? Did you think coming back to find you hard at work would free you of what you’ve done? I know full well how good a seat you have. Even had there been a snake and I’d put you on the most flighty of my stable, you could have gotten the horse under control within sight of the mill. You didn’t think my stricture of a simple ride to the mill worth your obedience.”

  Barbara said nothing, her breath caught in her throat by the force of his anger. Had she been able to put two words together, she still would not have spoken. He had no idea what caused the panic—hers, not that of her horse—and she had no intention of enlightening him. She had done everything he charged her with, and this distress was no more than her due.

  If anything, though, her quiet only seemed to enrage him further.

  A vein in his forehead began to pulse at an alarming rate. “You didn’t think my command worth following either. You play at being equal to your cousins, but you hold yourself to different standards, or perhaps to no standards at all.”

  “No, Uncle. I swear. I deserve your anger.” She’d meant to stay sil
ent, but his charge brought the words forth, words which only worsened the situation from his glare.

  “You mock me now? You think I’ll tolerate such behavior? You were a good girl once. If this is what London does to a soul, perhaps I should be grateful Charlotte’s season was cut short despite the cause.”

  A gasp from one of the cousins reached Barbara but she didn’t turn to look, her gaze locked with her uncle’s in a kind of terrified fascination.

  His face an unhealthy shade of purple, her uncle leaned even closer. “You will learn respect if nothing else while you are here. And you will learn to obey, whether you want to or not. Since my horses brought us to this space, they shall be your punishment. You are banned from my stables. You will not ride again no matter how long your parents think you should stay to learn your lesson.”

  This time, the dismayed cry came from her own lips, the punishment worse than any she imagined. To lose this chance for freedom before returning to the confines of London society burned, especially when she could not reveal what lay behind her actions.

  “Oh, Father, no.” Georgiana put a hand on his arm, and for a moment, it looked as though he would shake it off. “Please don’t be so harsh with her. She doesn’t mean to harm, I’m sure of it. Only look at how she tried to bear your anger as her due. She just doesn’t think through how her London ways are hurtful.”

  Barbara turned a stricken gaze on Georgiana, aware of exactly what the younger girl referred to.

  “Surely she didn’t mean it as it seemed,” Jane chimed in a heartbeat later, as did Charlotte and Marian, rising to her defense in an endearing manner when they chanced him turning his rage in their directions.

  “She did not think to disobey you,” Sarah said, her quiet voice ringing with authority.

  Uncle Ferrier looked from one young woman to another, his gaze resting speculatively on Sarah for a long moment.

  At last he turned to Barbara, his natural color restored and his gaze calm. “Did you not mean to flaunt your disobedience?”

  Heat swept her face as she heard the pain behind his words. Barbara half-rose from her seat to say, “No. Uncle, no. I acted without thinking, and once done, it was too late to return.”

  His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, then he nodded once, recognizing the confession in her statement. There had been no snake. “Your punishment stands.”

  A shared sigh came from the girls.

  He raised a hand to silence them. “But I’ll soften it thus. You can ride only in the company of your cousins, and you’re to stay with them at all times. One more incident, and I’ll do more than just withhold the stables. I’ll tan your hide myself if you prove so reckless again. No matter how good the seat, accidents happen to the best of riders, and I’ll not be returning a coffin where your parents entrusted me with their daughter.”

  Stunned at the reprieve, Barbara leapt from the table and rounded it to give her uncle a hug. “Thank you, Uncle Ferrier. I swear I’ll not betray your trust again. I will stay with my cousins always.”

  He looked down at her and laughed, giving his head a rueful shake. “How you survive in London, I have no idea. You have little sense of decorum and share my love of horseflesh. But under all those little arrogances, you’re a good girl. Be careful that doesn’t get lost in the run of suitors trying for your hand.”

  Uncle Ferrier froze. He glanced first at Sarah then looked to his niece, his gaze turned thoughtful. “That was the noble from the field, I suppose. He spent the afternoon trying not to ask after you. Just what happened on that day?”

  Barbara choked, fearful of what her uncle had begun to suspect. “Nothing. Nothing happened in the fields or any other time.”

  The cousins came up on either side to provide a wall of support as they agreed.

  “There wasn’t time for anything.”

  “His interested was marked, but Barbara would have none of it.”

  “She behaved only as you wished.”

  Charlotte waited for the others to quiet before adding her own statement to the mix. “She found his attention inappropriate then, and would have been driven to discomfort upon seeing him again.”

  Uncle Ferrier waved them away. “So your parents sent you here to think on the nobles who press you in London, but one found you here and is just as pressing.” The last of the pinched lines in his face eased. “While I can’t condone your choices, I understand better why you reacted as you did…and why you could not just recover the horse and return. Still, he’s the lord’s guest and will be about on the land. You must learn to control yourself. I spent the afternoon with him, and he’s not the type to force himself on a young lady unwilling.” His gaze narrowed once again. “You’re to do nothing to encourage him, neither flight nor flattery. He will soon give up the chase.”

  Somehow Barbara doubted it would be that easy, but she smiled her agreement and returned to the task of shelling peas as though it were resolved. She had no plans to defy her uncle’s ruling. She would neither encourage Aubrey to give chase nor flatter.

  This showed more than anything she needed to gain the upper hand in the situation between them. Her uncle said nothing about letting Aubrey succeed in his pursuit, at least enough to teach him a lesson. And if that wouldn’t drive away the hold he seemed to have on her emotions, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about him pressing her after she’d revealed him the cad.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Barbara lingered as she carried her milk bucket past the stables, hoping to catch more of the stable boys’ conversation. It seemed Uncle Ferrier would be putting his prize stallion on display. She’d heard him speak of the beast, but had yet to see which one it was.

  “Hurry up, Barbara, or the milk will sour before we reach the kitchen.” Marian laughed at Barbara’s expression, a sign she’d only been teasing about the last, but from the lack of others crossing the yard, she’d been serious about the hurrying.

  The chance that she’d be allowed to watch offered enough to speed her steps. She need only find Uncle Ferrier before Charlotte declared their next task.

  As she stepped through the door, though, Barbara discovered she would not have to search for her uncle after all.

  “There you are. We’ve been waiting for you,” Uncle Ferrier said.

  “Oh? I had hoped to speak with you as well.”

  His eyebrow rose, and whatever he’d meant to share, he nodded for her to speak first.

  Under his close attention, especially with the disaster of the previous day, she found herself reluctant to ask. The enthusiasm she’d felt outside had drained away.

  But she’d already spoken, and if she didn’t ask a question, he’d be sure to suspect her of something far worse than wanting to watch his horse.

  “The stable boys were talking about how you’d planned to run your favorite through his paces. Would you mind if I were to watch?”

  Uncle Ferrier started shaking his head even before she got to the question, and only determination kept her going.

  “I am sorry about yesterday,” she added, her voice soft. Clearly he’d held on to more of his anger than she’d thought.

  Again he shook his head, but this time his eyes softened. “It’s not yesterday on my mind, but today. I’d come to tell Charlotte to take you all to the forest. Grannie mentioned she’s low on some of her herbs.”

  Charlotte’s brow furrowed. “She said none of this to me yesterday. I’ll go check with her to see what she needs.”

  Uncle Ferrier put out a hand to bar her way. “Grannie’s off helping a birth. Just do a general gather. There’s never enough, and she can dry the extra for the winter. Besides, it would do your cousin good to know her way around the simple remedies. I have little doubt such was neglected in all her preparations for London society.”

  “But Father, wouldn’t it be better to know what Grannie needed so much that you want us gone on the task right now?”

  Father and daughter exchanged a look full of meaning if only Barbara knew
more about this Grannie and her herb lore. From the nod Charlotte gave and the end to her protests, though, her cousin understood his intent.

  A light blush heated Barbara’s cheeks as she wondered if the reason had little to do with not knowing and more to do with the types of herbs they had been sent after. She’d heard some stories from the other girls in London regarding the impact of certain herbs, but surely her uncle wouldn’t send Charlotte and the rest of them on such an errand.

  As she considered the possible meanings, Uncle Ferrier announced they would leave this very moment. The cousins clearly knew his tone because they left the milk for Cook to deal with and gathered their things.

  Barbara accepted both the basket and shawl thrust into her hands when she saw Sarah do the same.

  “It can get cold under the trees,” Marian said as she released the cloth. “Come on now. We wouldn’t want Father to learn we’d dawdled.”

  When they stepped into the yard, Charlotte and the others turned away from the stables, but Barbara could see a magnificent young male being led out. “Can we not just pass by the stable yard,” she asked.

  Charlotte followed her gaze to see the horse then met the pleading look Barbara gave her cousin with a shrug. “I suppose there’s little harm in it, though the stables are out of our way.”

  “Must we truly?” Georgiana said. “It’s far enough to the forest.”

  Marian gave her sister a shove. “No purpose in whining. Our cousin sickens to the same bug that our father suffers. Let her get an eyeful and then we’ll be on our way without her dragging her feet.” She turned to Barbara to add, “Only we’d best make it a quick glimpse what with Father specifically making this task the more important one.”

  Barbara didn’t wait to be told twice, Sarah not much further behind her. The cousins put no speed in their steps, most likely because they’d grown up alongside these horses, and Georgiana at least had little interest.