A Country Masquerade

by Margaret McGaffey Fisk

  “How is it you happened to be crossing this field?”

  The question, from one of the other girls, broke his concentration. Aubrey struggled with an answer for a moment before realizing she’d meant to tease. “There are only so many directions to a compass, and I’ve roamed a bit these past two days.”

  “Searching for our Barbara, I’d guess.”

  “Jane!” The oldest of the farmer’s daughters gave her sister a sharp look and saved him the trouble of a reply when he did not want to admit she’d said nothing but the truth, especially when he’d hidden that knowledge from himself. Seeing Barbara now, though, made the circuitous nature of his rides all the clearer.

  The girls swung down from their horses, Barbara the last to follow suit as though reluctant to give up her perch.

  Aubrey refused to take advantage and so joined them on the ground, his feet having recovered from the abuse of last time in the long days between.

  “Would any of you girls like some water after your hard ride?” he asked instead, pulling his flask free from its bindings.

  Barbara sat nearest, and he watched as she tipped her head back and swallowed twice. The movement accentuated the slender length of her throat, so pale despite her labors under the sun.

  Instead of returning the flask, she passed it over to another servant, a further sign the rules of class and station did not hold much sway in this company.

  “I should not be surprised from the quality of Mr. Ferrier’s stables, but you all ride with skill,” he said, collecting his wandering thoughts in an attempt to appear unaffected.

  Barbara’s lips curled in a grin that sent heat to his very core. “Shouldn’t you be shocked and upset to find yourself in the company of girls astride?”

  He blinked twice, perhaps giving the impression of shock as he admired her pluck. “I see nothing wrong in setting the right tools to the task,” Aubrey said after a moment. “The sight of you, any of you, thrown down as your saddle gave way at such speed would be pleasing to none.”

  “You sound as though you know a thing or two about sidesaddles,” the oldest broke in.

  “I have three sisters. You’ll have to trust I’ve heard their curses often enough to know the failings of a woman’s saddle. Besides…” He turned to Barbara. “This is not the first time I’ve seen you astride.”

  He’d meant to compliment her on regaining control without being thrown, but before he could continue, Barbara flushed a deep red, and this time she did turn away.

  From her response, it seemed the farmer had been closer to the truth than Aubrey had thought in claiming the snake a ruse. “You were running from me.” The words came as he relived the moment their gazes crossed, the same moment her horse reared up as though attacked from beneath.

  He’d spoken under his breath, but the way she jerked back to stare revealed he’d been heard. The sharp need for her answer prevented him from any pretense of not having spoken. That need more than anything put paid to his vow to abandon the pursuit. He was caught in her clutches as sure as Odysseus had longed to hear the sirens, only Aubrey’s friends had not seen fit to tie him to the mast.

  BARBARA GAVE HIM EVERY OPPORTUNITY to deny what she’d heard, or even turn the conversation to other topics. He only stared at her as though expecting a response, ignoring any chance of withdrawing with the steady nature of a horse wearing blinkers. She couldn’t believe he’d meant to confront her on this, but neither did he seem willing to let the moment pass.

  “If I did, it is because I find your attentions disturbing,” she said finally, losing patience along with control of her tongue.

  Her mother would have charged her with shrewishness, but she spoke only the truth. His seeking her now, when she’d have given anything to catch his interest before learning what he really thought of her, drove Barbara to erratic behavior that spiraled between rage and confusion.

  Though her words came out sharp, a wide smile split his face. “I do as well, but that doesn’t seem to have the least impact.”

  Confusion won as she shook her head, unable to comprehend his statement.

  “I came here to get away from the marriage mart, the constant press of girls and their mothers. Certainly not to find myself drawn to someone new.”

  In one simple statement, he reminded her of exactly why she’d decided to follow through on Sarah’s plan as her emotions swung once again to rage.

  If ever a man needed a lesson, this one did. His pretty words held as much meaning as the dust his horse kicked up to dig free a fresh growth.

  And he wasn’t offering the simple country girl he saw anything more than a loss of reputation and a broken heart. He’d come to escape the marriage mart and certainly wouldn’t make an offer here, especially not to someone so unsuitable after he brushed aside all those other girls.

  She glanced away, not wanting him to see the flames that must have been shooting from her eyes, but he caught her chin and tugged her back. The touch, as light as it was, stole the breath from her lungs and sent tingles down her neck.

  “I did not mean to spurn you. Only to admit to being driven by something greater than myself. I cannot promise to leave you be.” His shoulders raised in a shrug. “I tried and failed. But I’ll do my best to help you become more comfortable with my attentions.”

  Barbara cast about for her cousins to beg a rescue, unsure just what he’d meant by that but suspecting her uncle would be none too pleased.

  They had moved aside to give Aubrey and Barbara the illusion of privacy. Whispers interrupted by the occasional giggle, though, revealed what could only be enjoyment at her expense.

  She sent a scowl at Marian, the closest, who surely knew better. Some help they were. If this were the way of sisters, Barbara could only be grateful she had none.

  Marian flushed a bright pink and called in an overly loud voice, “Just look at the berries on that bush there. We should all collect some for Father. Coming, Barbara?”

  Barbara regretted her bitter thought as she spun away from Aubrey’s intent gaze to cross over to where the girls had gathered. It seemed the bush did hold plump, deep purple berries, a fortunate circumstance with Aubrey following close on her heels.

  Georgiana cast him a bright smile. “It can be just as how you first met Barbara, only now none of us have more than a handkerchief to hold our bounty.” She cast a sideways glance at her older sister. “And I doubt Charlotte will be quite so strict on the number we consume, especially when we can carry so little.”

  Aubrey collected the reins of all the horses, looking like nothing more than a servant walking the master’s dogs on the streets of London, only his charges stood many hands higher. “I’ll tether the beasts to that sturdy tree. Without baskets, we’ll all need our hands, I suspect.”

  Finally, he chose to act the gentlemen and put aside the uncomfortable intensity he had been pressing on her.

  Barbara allowed herself to relax. She ignored the little voice at the back of her head that expressed regret at the moment passing. He made her so turned about. She’d have to be much more careful if she was to escape from her plan unscathed.

  That, if nothing else, made her even more determined to bring him to his knees. She found the sensation of being out of control disturbing at the very least.

  “…And everyone at the manor enjoyed a delicious piece of cheesecake with one bruised raspberry clinging to the top. Even such a small treat proved so good Lady Pendleton sent out servants to pluck a full measure. Though how they followed my directions, I do not know. I’ve been so far unable to return.”

  Marian laughed and brushed his sleeve with already sticky fingers. “It’s because the servants took all the berries so the bush seems nothing more than a bramble now, I’m sure.”

  “Or maybe,” Barbara cut in as she touched a decidedly ripe and plump fruit, “the manor servants know the area much better than some gentleman fresh from London.”

  Charlotte shot her a reproving glance, but Aubrey took no of
fense, throwing back his head to laugh with infectious abandon.

  Barbara watched him from the corner of her eye, most likely fooling no one but herself as she enjoyed a humor that in no way connected with the person she’d discovered in London. If he wore a mask here, it fit like a fresh-boiled glove. Perhaps he saw this as a space out of time, much like she had become another person in Charlotte’s cast-offs and with chores making her hands red.

  “Perhaps,” Aubrey said, as though in answer to her musing until he continued, “but they’ll be happy for some of these despite the bounty.” He proved himself pleased enough by plucking two from the bush and dropping the first onto his tongue.

  Though she’d turned to watch him openly, Barbara ducked away when she realized his intention for the second berry. She could just as well pluck her own, and the thought of accepting a treat from his fingers, of his fingertips brushing her lips as he had her chin, made her insides shaky.

  Unwilling to chance another such opportunity, Barbara moved close to Charlotte, the only one of the girls she could trust to shield her rather than offering her up to him much like the berry he’d savored so openly. She allowed herself sideways glances but nothing more as they took what they could carry and went their separate ways.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Barbara woke the next morning with a sense of well-being at odds with the hard work Charlotte had put them to upon their return from the ride.

  They’d gone through a long list of chores that kept them close to the farmhouse so surely their tasks today would take them into the fields and beyond her uncle’s narrowed gaze. He’d welcomed the gift of berries the previous day, and by some twist of fate or luck, had not inquired as to why they’d stopped during their ride long enough to discover the fruit.

  His distraction had been so noticeable Georgiana asked after him, but when he’d started to speak of some decision regarding his breeding program, his youngest daughter quickly turned the conversation to speculating on what Cook would do with the berries this time.

  Barbara would have liked to hear about the horses, but she was happy enough to avoid another lecture on engaging in activities with Aubrey.

  “You’re looking quite lively this morning,” Sarah said, pulling herself to a seated position with obvious effort. “One might wonder just what—or who—put that smile on your lips.”

  With a glance to the window, Barbara shrugged. “It looks to be a beautiful morning.”

  “And you can tell this through the gingham, I suppose?”

  Barbara focused on the space she’d used as an excuse only to find the curtains pulled closed. Of course. Sarah was the one to open them each morning, forcing Barbara to rise, and her friend was still abed.

  Instead of answering, she slipped out from under the covers and crossed to the basin of water to begin her morning wash.

  “It isn’t for thoughts of seeing your nobleman, is it?”

  “If I have any thoughts of seeing him, it’s for the chance to give him a taste of his own nature using your grand plan,” Barbara said.

  She glanced over to Sarah, but instead of the mischievous expression she’d expected, her friend wore a frown.

  Sarah rose as well. “Perhaps I spoke too hastily before. Perhaps it would be better to tell him the truth and let him discover his mistake now in a gentler way.”

  Barbara had not expected her friend to have given in so quickly to Aubrey’s pretense, not knowing what she did once Barbara had told her. And yet, hadn’t she experienced the same trouble? Though she’d not admit it to Sarah, the hope of seeing Aubrey once again had brought her awake with anticipation, and her response had more to do with the chance for his company than any punishment, deserved or not.

  Her voice sharp more against her own fickle heart than Sarah’s, Barbara snapped, “Aubrey St. Vincent caused me no end of heartache. Who knows how many other girls have suffered from his cutting wit? And he is the root of any worries my parents suffer as well. God sent him here so I could give him a taste of his own medicine, not so I can soften the blow and cater to his already overblown sense of superiority.”

  Sarah had flinched when she started speaking and showed no more signs of comfort now that Barbara fell silent.

  A twinge of regret passed through her.

  Sarah deserved her rancor no more than her parents had for sending her here instead of letting her finish out the season. Aubrey lay at the root of everything, and she’d do well to remember it.

  With a familiarity from their shared childhood as much as the forgetfulness of station this place provoked, Sarah caught Barbara’s arm when she would have turned away. “I know you believe that to be true. I do not doubt what you heard him say, or that he meant every word at the time. And yet, you said yourself he spoke in confidence to his friend, unaware anyone stood close enough to listen. I’ve seen no sign of such a disregard in the time he’s spent in our company, and I have seen how you are drawn to him no matter what you’d like to pretend.”

  Barbara pulled away, wishing for a mirror so she could watch Sarah without looking in that direction, but the simple chest of drawers had none. She stared resolutely at the wall instead. “I’m not the one pretending. You hear my words, but you don’t listen to them. How is his gentle nature now any different than his mask worn in London? Tell me how you can see through to his heart when he has all of society fooled?”

  This time when Sarah touched Barbara it was to offer a soft hug to her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to state I could see what you could not. It’s only that being out of London can bring out true natures in a way society prevents. You, yourself, strained at its strictures. Why couldn’t it be the same for him? Why couldn’t this be whom he would be if he didn’t have to conform?”

  Though Barbara tried to shrug off the touch, it wasn’t much of an attempt and had little effect. Sarah said nothing she hadn’t thought herself. It took more effort than she could have imagined to keep herself from succumbing to his playacting. When he’d touched her those few times, her whole body joined the chorus begging to accept his deceit as truth.

  “I can only think on your cousin’s warning,” Sarah said as though reading the answer in Barbara’s tense form. “No good comes from scheming and lies, no matter how good the intention.”

  Barbara forced a smile to her lips ignoring how strained it must have appeared as she turned to meet Sarah’s worried gaze. “Then it’s a good thing I have not deceived in the slightest manner. It is no fault of mine if he looks on my clothes and assumes without asking. I promise you, should he seek my background, I’ll be truthful. That should calm your fears. Though if he thinks to ask and looks beyond the judgment he made without my consent, no one will be more surprised than myself.”

  She pushed her friend aside gently so she could collect a dress from those Charlotte had lent her, ignoring the quiet words that followed her.

  “But when you told him your name, you chose not to tell it all. Is that not enough of a lie?”

  THE BERRIES WERE AS WELL received at the manor the second time as they had been the first, and Aubrey suffered the sideways glances and knowing looks from his friends in silence. He might not have gone out of his way to seek her, but some part of him had been aware of the greater possibility when he’d chosen the direction he had.

  Aubrey found little value in self-deceit. He could call her a siren, claim she had mystical nymph-like qualities, or however else he chose to explain why the next morning he turned his steed toward the farm once again, but that she—and no other—drew him could not be denied.

  He mused on where this attraction would take him as he rode, determine to break through her reticence and get a glimpse of the thoughts in her head. Whether she could survive in London became more imperative as he questioned if he would survive leaving her behind. Part of him dreaded the discovery that, like any wildflower, once plucked from the country she would shine her bright colors into his life for only a few short days before beginning to fade.

>   Aubrey laughed at himself, always planning so far into the future when too many twists and turns lay in his path for him to see the truth of such a plan. After all, he’d always thought to find his mate the traditional way, at the marriage mart, and yet he’d fled from the scene after less than a full season, unable to stomach it.

  As though an echo of his humor, he heard faint laughter.

  He pressed heels to the horse’s sides. No doubt of the source ever rose, not with the way his heartbeat quickened at the teasing sound.

  “I found some!”

  His faith rewarded, Aubrey rode up to the forest edge to find his country girl calling the others over. She knelt in the dirt, her hands pressed to the soil as she stared at something beneath her.

  “Fine morning,” he called, swinging down from his horse. He paused only long enough to tether the beast to a tree before joining the gathering. “What have you found?”

  Barbara had looked up at his greeting, and from the moment their gazes locked, had not shifted.

  He could see the confusion at his question and when she blinked to clear her mind of the effect they seemed to have on one another. The sight offered hope where nothing else could. It confirmed she was as affected by his presence as he was by hers.

  “Mushrooms,” she said after a short pause.

  He suspected she read a match to her earlier expression on his face with her reply.

  He’d been so caught up in whether she shared his interest he’d forgotten asking the question at first, but he followed her pointed finger to see the small brown caps against the ground.

  Charlotte approached with her sisters, and Barbara moved back to give her room. The farmer’s eldest poked the fungus, inspecting its features as the others stood by, waiting for her assessment.

  Aubrey had nothing to offer in this. The only mushrooms he’d ever seen had been carefully prepared by a cook and presented in their most savory forms.

  “Yes, these are good for eating. Collect half of them, Barbara, no more. We want to keep the patch growing, and it’s only right to share some bounty with the wild creatures,” Charlotte said as she dusted her hands and stood. “The rest of you get back to looking. She needs no help in this. It’s been a wet winter, but the finds are still rare this early in the season.”