A Country Masquerade

by Margaret McGaffey Fisk

  Georgiana skipped past them. “I’d be burning with envy, but he’s so sweet and smitten. Besides, you turning shades whenever he catches you off guard is precious.”

  Barbara ignored the others to glare at her youngest cousin. “I am not some newborn kitten to stare at him with wide eyes and beg his favor,” She turned a pointed stare at Jane.

  The others burst out in laughter at a description too close for the meaning to be missed.

  Jane pouted for a heartbeat, but the souring of her mood didn’t last long before her lips cracked into a twisted smile. “Perhaps that’s the answer. A direct approach makes them scatter to the winds while turning your gaze and hiding the truth of your history brings them right to your doorstep.”

  “While I’ve no doubt Barbara has made a conquest,” Charlotte said, catching hold of Jane’s arm, “What begins in falsehood rarely ends well, so don’t you go concocting stories to trap the local men.”

  A deep red swept up Jane’s neck to color her face.

  “I didn’t say a word,” Barbara protested, as much to defend herself as to rescue her cousin.

  “No, you didn’t. You didn’t have to.” Charlotte frowned. “You might not have told him you were a country girl, but you’re dressed in castoffs and doing chores with the rest of us. What is he to think but that you’re our servant? Be careful it does not come crashing about your head.”

  As much as she wished she could reject her cousin’s words, what Charlotte said held only the truth. She hadn’t intended this to happen, but neither had she done the least thing to stop it. Though if she had, Sarah’s plan would have been worthless. Whether he recognized her or not, he knew her name well enough to slander it.

  “Besides,” she said after a short pause. “If he were a conquest as you say, he would have followed us home to speak with your father about me. Instead, he called it quits and went back to the manor. That is a sure sign of how devoted to me he is not.”

  Marian put a finger against her chin and tapped twice. “Perhaps our father gave him the same speech he gave you. He went out of his way to ensure you did not meet when showing his prize horse. I’d have thought nothing short of disaster could keep him from watching your expression as you realized what he’d managed to breed.”

  Georgiana giggled. “A forbidden romance, like that play you told us of. He must steal moments with you far from Father and is willing to risk wrath showered upon his shoulders just to share a few sweet words.”

  Barbara gave her cousin a shove. “Now don’t you be making up stories and telling them to your father. It’s no more than a bored nobleman preferring any female company to the prospect of entertaining himself. You heard him. His friends are busy so he sought other pleasures.”

  “Pleasures indeed,” Jane repeated.

  “Really, sisters. If this is how you think to behave it’s no wonder the man sought out the servant among us. He’d fear for the consequences with such wild girls as the likes of you.” Charlotte followed her words up with a stern gaze that swept from one of her sisters to the next, shaming them for their behavior.

  As much as Barbara appreciated the rescue, she couldn’t suppress a faint thrill at the thought that Aubrey had denied her uncle just to spend time with her. She should find the suggestion laughable, and would soon enough, but first she had to get herself under control, something that proved harder than it should have.

  Sarah moved up next to Barbara once again, leaning close to say, “Are you going with the plan to teach the man a lesson then?”

  Barbara hardened her spine and stared straight ahead for a moment, but the answer seemed the only clear aspect of this whole muddle. Why else would her pulse race when he appeared if not because she anticipated bringing him to his knees?

  “I am.”

  “You are what?” Jane asked from the other side of Barbara.

  Her mind spun through possible explanations until she found one her cousin might accept. “I am tired of all this talk of pairing and noblemen. Charlotte is right. We’d do better to focus on our work.”

  Barbara ignored the fact that her oldest cousin had said nothing of the sort, but when Jane accepted the dismissal, Barbara’s thoughts returned to what Charlotte had said in truth.

  A connection built on falsehood and lies could bring only trouble.

  Barbara comforted herself with the knowledge trouble was her true purpose. If she could get Aubrey to commit himself, she could then use the truth to prove him no better, or perhaps even worse, than those he saw fit to scorn.

  If her thoughts lingered on him, the need to plan out her next steps had to be the cause. He held no other interest, and certainly no fascination, for her.

  AUBREY HAD FAILED TO ACCOUNT for the bond between husband and wife, and the enjoyment they seemed to share at his expense, with his hope to keep the encounter to himself.

  No sooner had he left the stable and set foot in the manor proper than Daphne descended on him from wherever she had been keeping herself.

  “So? What did you learn? Is she the true bond for your heart?”

  The difference between avoiding a mention and an outright lie gave Aubrey little choice but to admit to how he’d spent the afternoon. Still, he could keep his own musing to himself. “I learned nothing.”

  Daphne’s expression fell. “You didn’t find her after all? Jasper had been so sure, and when you were gone most of the day…”

  Aubrey waved off her concern, tempted once more to claim a simple ramble through the forest but allowing a misunderstanding to stand had as little honor as provoking one with his own words. “I found the girls all right. I spent a pleasant afternoon in their company learning the local herb lore, though I can’t say whether I’d be able to repeat any of it.” He laughed, remembering Charlotte’s cautions. “Well, no more than not to pluck a random growth for something to chew on. I had no idea there were such dangers to be found among the greenery.”

  Daphne added a chuckle of her own as she laced an arm through his and drew him toward the drawing room. “If such a thing interests you, perhaps I should arrange an encounter with the local midwife. They all call her Grannie, though as far as I’ve been able to tell, she’s related to none of them. She has stories in plenty. Practically any plant can be used for a medicinal purpose to hear her speak of them, and as many for harm. It’s a wonder any husband strays as easy as it would be to slip him something to quiet the urge, if you catch my meaning.”

  The image that created brought a flush to his cheek as much for coming from her lips as for the words themselves. She showed no such weakness, her eyes twinkling with delighted mischief.

  “I have only to spend a moment in your company to envy your husband, Lady Pendleton. How he could have mistaken you when first you met is beyond me.”

  Daphne shook her head, both at his formal address and the words. “I had little enough reason to trust in his nature, and no reason to reveal my own. But our tale is old news by now, surely. I’m more interested in yours. How goes things with your country maid?”

  They reached the drawing room just as an awkward step reminded Aubrey of both his sore feet and the stench of horse sweat he carried with him.

  He pulled free of her hold. “I’m no fit company at the moment and would not want to sully your drawing room. Any telling must wait until I’ve washed the horse from me and changed to more appropriate clothing. I wouldn’t look askance at a soak for my sore feet either.”

  Daphne appeared about to protest until he added the last. Instead, she burst out a laugh. “I suppose you couldn’t have spent much time with them up on your horse, and those boots aren’t designed for rough fields. Better your story waits for Jasper anyway, or you’d just have to tell it all a second time. I’ll send a bath to your chambers, but don’t think you can withhold the afternoon’s events forever. Why, your tale is as convoluted as any drama in the London theaters, and we don’t have such entertainment out here.”

  Aubrey nodded thanks, his lips twisted to
one side at her assessment of his pursuit of Barbara, seeking as he did either her hand or freedom from her siren’s call. Only the future would reveal it to be a comedy, farce, or drama strong enough to bring tears to his eyes.

  The last thought gave him pause as he mounted the steps to his room. His heart wrenched with all too much pain at the idea of her proving to be none other than she appeared, a simple girl with a beautiful smile and an eye for the wonders of their world. If her very simplicity drew him, it also condemned him to leaving her behind no matter how it burned him. He would not kill what made her special by uprooting her. No London hot house could sustain her wild nature.

  By the time he reached his room, any amusement had drained from him as his mind turned to more serious paths. Better he flush all thought of her from his system.

  She had her life here, and his path had been carved since he was but a boy.

  He feared the delightful tale Daphne waited on no longer existed. From this moment forward, his pursuit of the truth about his feelings had come to an end, for the good of both of them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  When Charlotte came in from telling Grannie of the bounty they’d collected for her, she marched right up to Barbara and announced, “Since you’re the cause of this extra, you’ll just have to help me prepare the herbs for storage.” Charlotte looked as though she didn’t know whether to laugh or scowl as she made the pronouncement. “Clearly Grannie’s wishes had no stake in sending us off.”

  Barbara soon gained a better understanding of why the scowl.

  Even with all six of them working, it took the rest of the first day and far into the second before they’d set out those that could be dried and identified what needed to be boiled into solutions.

  Their work had only begun.

  After dividing the herbs, they began with more preparation steps than many an apothecary, each instruction given by Charlotte in a stern voice that allowed for no complaints and warned of dire consequences should they make a mistake.

  Only when they finished did Charlotte relent as she took in the results of their labors. “There’ll be no more chores today. Take yourself off for some relaxation.”

  The cousins scattered faster than Barbara had expected, perhaps fearing Charlotte would find some other essential task should they linger.

  “What would you do?” Charlotte’s gaze swept both Sarah and Barbara.

  Though her back ached and her hands were red and sensitive, only one thought came to mind. “I would ride.”

  Sarah laughed at that, though Barbara read the agreement in her friend’s face. In London, they’d spent what time they could on horseback, the only way to be free of any social restrictions, though riding there had little in common to the wild tear she’d accomplished the last time a horse stood between her knees.

  Barbara’s smile sank as the consequences of that freedom came back to her. “But with the cousins gone, I cannot. Your father was very specific that every one of you must accompany me or I may not go at all.”

  “Surely he didn’t mean to be so strict,” Charlotte said, her tone soft. “If any deserves her choice of rewards it is you and Sarah. Never would I have expected one so recently from London to put herself wholeheartedly into every task I set. The both of you are to be commended.”

  That brought life into Barbara as she stated, “Commended, maybe, but not on horseback.”

  Charlotte gave a rueful headshake. “No, I suppose not, or commended would unlikely be the response my father offered. I’ll promise you this though. If you help me with the remaining chores today, I’ll make sure Father agrees to a morning ride.”

  Barbara exchanged a glance with Sarah, and the two of them burst out in laughter, much to Charlotte’s confusion. Though she could hardly have predicted their humor, her statement only proved the desperate flight of the others a true act of self-preservation.

  “I won’t speak for Sarah,” Barbara said as soon as she got herself under control, “But that seems a worthy exchange to me.” She didn’t even mind that the other girls would get a second chance at freedom from chores when she did not. A true ride without incurring her uncle’s wrath would be worth the work.

  “Well, then, I think we should catch up on the sewing. We’ve spent enough time out in the sun, and from the look of your hands, they need to rest and repair as much as the whole of you.”

  Though sewing had never been Barbara’s favorite, she could manage a decent stitch, and it meant sitting down most likely with a cup of tea. There must have been other things that needed doing, so she chose to be grateful for her cousin’s kindness.

  Sarah followed them in rather than finding her own pleasures, and the three of them spent a quiet afternoon repairing clothing Barbara felt sure she’d wear before her return to London. At least her handwork would not embarrass, not herself nor any of the cousins who donned the clothes.

  The others returned at nightfall without speaking of how they’d chosen to spend their time, though from the blush on Georgiana’s cheeks, Barbara suspected Charlotte would soon have to give the girl a stern talking to.

  Without hesitation, they each poured a cup of tea and pulled something from the sewing basket, talking on the state of the fields and how high the river was running. Barbara let the conversation flow over her, focused on the possibility of a ride in the morning.

  She refused to admit to herself how much the desire stemmed from the hope of crossing paths with Aubrey. After spending the day with him when they were gathering, she knew she wouldn’t shy from his company, but she’d had no opportunity to put it to the test. With the herb work, they’d kept close to the house, and Aubrey had made no attempt to seek her out there.

  Barbara pushed away her disappointment, reminded of how the cousins suspected her uncle had warned him to stay back. His absence could not be taken as an already waning interest any more than her feelings showed anticipation for his company. She only wanted to put Sarah’s plan into effect and teach Aubrey not to judge without evidence.

  If her thoughts rang hollow, only she could hear them. The cousins and Sarah had no reason to suspect and tease her for what consumed her attention much more than the measured stitches as she repaired a sprung seam. At least her hands obeyed her command, making even, tight loops that could provoke no complaint.

  Just then, her uncle came in from the yard and the girls leapt up to greet their father with an abandon Barbara had cause to envy. She loved her parents, but such boisterous affection had long since been discouraged as she became a young lady and left childhood behind. Just one more way the country differed from London society much like her canters would be soundly condemned there.

  Charlotte pulled her father out of the bevy of sisters and spoke so softly Barbara could not hear her words. Still, what else could she be talking about but the ride? Barbara had seen enough even in her short time among them to know catching him in the first moments come in from the stables meant the greatest chance of whatever request they made.

  Uncle Ferrier glanced her way then back to Charlotte, but when he spoke it was in a voice loud enough to fill the room and cut through the chatter from the girls. “You can all go riding tomorrow. I’ll leave word with the stable boys as to which horse for each of you.” He turned to face Barbara fully. “You are all to stay together. No wandering off and getting into trouble.”

  Though she’d been sure the last had been a reference to her attempt to escape Aubrey, he pivoted to glare down at Georgiana who turned a deep scarlet. Perhaps the behavior that brought a flush to her cousin’s cheeks had not passed unnoticed after all, nor had all of Charlotte’s whispers to her father concerned Barbara.

  At least things couldn’t have gone so far as to compromise the girl, or her uncle would have done more than glare, but Barbara hoped her cousin took this warning to heart. Even out in the country, a young woman’s future, and whom she chose to spend it with, had much to do with how good a reputation she maintained.

  Barbara
could not imagine Uncle Ferrier giving her off to someone at random if no one of standing would have her, but neither could she think of a woman less suited to spinsterhood than her youngest cousin.

  AUBREY’S DECISION TO STAY clear of his delightful country girl passed without challenge in the two days since he’d met the girls at the forest’s edge. That he’d noticed the absence did not bode well for his conviction, however, nor did how he chose a path near the Ferrier farmland to complete his morning ride.

  A clear voice cut through the background murmur of nature, rewarding his vigilance with, “You heard your father. We must stay together. So keep up.”

  He tugged on his reins just in time to enjoy the spectacle of Barbara astride a well-muscled horse, her head tossed back and hair streaming behind her as the horse sped from a quick walk into a full-out canter.

  The wisdom of a proper saddle, especially at those speeds, did not escape him though she’d be shunned if ever she rode so in London.

  The other girls from the gathering trip charged after her, equally skilled, perhaps, but less capable of drawing his gaze, which had stayed with their wild leader as though bound to her with stout leather.

  He kneed his horse to follow at a more sedate pace, not because the challenge of a canter failed to appeal but so he wouldn’t startle the girls, as Barbara had been that day at the mill. They seemed oblivious to his observation as first Barbara and then the others pulled up their horses into a trot then walk to cool down.

  “Morning,” he called out as he neared. “Nothing like a fast ride to start the day off well.”

  As he’d thought, from the way they twisted to face him as a group, his arrival had passed unnoticed. Their expressions ranged from surprise and embarrassment to delight, but he cared only for the one painting Barbara’s features.

  Her eyes had widened, but the blush that colored her cheeks did not make her turn away. Instead, she stared right at him, their gazes locked for what seemed like an age. If she were as a siren to him, it seemed he did not suffer alone.