by Jaima Fixsen
“Not at all. You mustn’t trouble about me,” Miss Edwards said. “Heavens, I didn’t come here to impose. Just to keep my brother company, and it’s very good of you to have me. You’re busy with your parents and your soon-to-be-born baby. I’m afraid I’m not much good with them myself. Well, I’ve never really had the chance to try.”
“I haven’t either,” Sophy said. And though they drank two pots of tea and somehow laid waste to a plate of lemon biscuits, they talked only of Sophy’s unborn child, imputing all sorts of characteristics to the creature punching acrobatically in her belly. Each time she remembered, Sophy tried to turn the conversation to Jasper, but by the time Tom summoned her for her afternoon nap, she hadn’t succeeded. Miss Edwards was either blithely unaware or very, very clever.
“Should we worry about this?” Sophy asked two mornings later as she and Tom waved off Jasper and Miss Edwards, embarking on another jaunt to the town. Jasper always found some reason to absent himself before Lord and Lady Fairchild arrived. Sophy never warned him they were coming, so he must have a real sense for it.
“No,” Tom said. “And I don’t think we should tomorrow either.”
Sophy frowned. She supposed he was right. Miss Edwards was a convenient excuse for Jasper to avoid their parents. Of course, she was also pretty and pleasant company now she’d let him draw her out. But why on earth would Jasper think so many gentlemen were willing to fight over her?
Chapter Twelve
Care-for-nothings
It was a mere ten miles or so to Bury St Edmonds and Jasper was used to covering the distance in well under an hour. Though it was thrilling to drive at speed round corners and make Miss Edwards clutch his arm and squeal, he was in no hurry today. No point in returning before he could be certain his parents were gone. Yesterday he’d come back too early and had to kick his heels in the stables for an hour.
“To avoid your parents is childish,” Miss Edwards told him. She’d picked up on the pattern of their outings.
“I love unsolicited advice. Have you anymore?” Jasper asked.
“I think we’re less likely to overturn at this pace. Normally you drive like the devil’s at your heels.”
“She is—you know her as Lady Fairchild.”
“Is that why you’re taking your time today?” Miss Edwards asked, shaking a curl out of her face.
“Maybe I’m savoring the company,” he said.
“You should. I won’t be around for long,” she said.
“Nonsense. Haven’t I helped you choose wallpapers for your new house?”
“You’ve made plenty of suggestions, certainly. No. Jack will settle here, but my home is in London.”
“Then I’ll see you there.”
“You might. But you won’t have me all to yourself,” she warned with a smile.
“Well, that’s a crying shame. We get along so famously.” He said it in jest, but it was true. They never had trouble finding things to laugh about and traded quips all the way into town past St. Andrew’s Street.
She sighed, her eyes fixed on the famous Abbey Tower. “What tales will you invent for me today?”
“None if we get saddled with the caretaker again,” Jasper said, making a face. Two days ago they’d gone through St. Mary’s with the old man. “That was worse than being at school.”
“I found it very enlightening,” Miss Edwards said.
“Yes, well, I don’t expect anyone tried to beat your history into you.”
“Are you trying to make me pity you? I assure you I’m quite incapable of it.”
She might be at that, depending when her people had come from France. “How long have you lived in London?” he asked.
She started at his abrupt question, a transgression of their unspoken rules—serious probing wasn’t allowed, only silly impertinences. “Since I was quite small,” she said, evading nicely.
That didn’t tell him much.
“We came from France.”
Ah. She smiled still, but he must be careful. He didn’t know her exact age, but it didn’t take an arithmetic champion to know she’d have been small during the Terror.
“It was a long time ago,” she said.
“Your brother was never tempted to return to France?” Some, he knew, made peace with Napoleon and repaired or even grew their fortunes.
“There’s nothing to bring us back,” she said.
Jasper licked his lips. He really shouldn’t have broached the subject. He turned down a side street, threading the curricle through a jostling throng of carts, pedestrians, and street vendors. The lane, edged by narrow shops with swinging signs and open shutters, wove drunkenly up the hill. Before the Abbey Gardens came in sight, her hand clutched his arm.
He shot one eye at her but kept his attention on the road.
“He’s seen us,” she sighed. “You’ll have to pull up.”
Jasper brought his horses to a stop. Before he could ask who she meant, he saw the answer to his question trot toward them on one of Bagshot’s chestnut hacks. If ever he’d seen a thundercloud, here was one brooding on the face of Good Brother Jack.
“Will he be pleased to see us do you think?” Jasper asked, hoping vainly.
“Not especially,” she whispered. “You’d best be careful.”
Seemed she had no qualms about feeding him to the wolves. “Dr. Edwards.” Jasper nodded and tipped his hat.
Edwards ignored him. “Laura I thought you were staying home with your new book?”
“I put it away. Couldn’t make myself finish. How was your meeting with Dr. Jamieson?”
At breakfast Edwards had mentioned plans to ride into town so Jamieson could introduce him to more patients and show him over the surgery.
“Are your offices down there?” Jasper twisted his neck to peer down the cross street.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go see them,” he suggested. “I’m sure Miss Edwards would love a look.”
Edwards’ lips shrank together. “There’s a patient recovering. I’ve just cut out an infected toenail.”
Jasper’s mouth twitched in a rubbery grimace. He could never do such a thing, not for any amount of money.
“Then you’re free to come with us to tour the Abbey Gardens,” Laura said. “Isn’t it good of Mr. Rushford to take me?”
Edwards’ grumble said what he thought of that, but he didn’t hesitate to join and rode beside them the rest of the way up Angel Hill.
“He really dislikes me,” Jasper whispered to her, aggrieved. “And I’ve been a perfect gentleman.”
“I may have mentioned to him your first evening here that you were a frequent guest in my dressing room.”
Jasper fought the impulse to draw rein. “Does he know I know?” he asked coolly.
“No, I haven’t told him. But you can see he doesn’t care much for our friendship.”
“You are an impudent thing,” Jasper murmured to her under his breath, keeping a wary eye on Jack Edwards. The man rode indifferently, but his hands looked alarmingly capable. Toenails! Jasper thought and shuddered. “I prefer a whole skin and your dear brother looks very capable of thwarting my desire.”
“Are you afraid?” Miss Edwards asked with a coquettish tilt of the head.
“I don’t like making scenes,” he said.
“And I thought you an exceeding fine actor,” she said.
He’d laugh if he weren’t the one caught out in trouble. This would take careful stepping.
They did just that, pittering down the gravel paths of the Abbey Gardens, admiring the church and views of the river Lark. “And this way you’ve a fine prospect of the town.” Jasper pointed and held back a yawn.
“Lovely,” Miss Edwards said. She started down the path, but as Jasper moved to follow her the doctor laid a hand on his arm.
“A word, sir,” he said.
Here it comes. Jasper decided not to make too fine a point of it. “You’re concerned about my attentions to your sister. Here? Or in Lond
on?” he asked.
Dr. Edwards took a moment to recover. “Both. She’s not a plaything and you’re a flirt.”
“So is she,” Jasper said. “A cracking good one. I assure you if it ever becomes necessary for you to run me through or give me a good drubbing, you’ll be given every opportunity. In the meantime, let her take care of herself. She prefers it that way.” Jasper prodded a lump of dirt with the point of his walking stick while Dr. Edwards pulled his jaw out of the folds of his necktie. “Better now?” He shouldn’t needle the man, but Edwards made it so easy.
“I did not abandon my sister to pursue my career. And I take a great interest—”
“Of course you do,” Jasper said. “I expect she’d have delivered you to the ship herself bound and gagged if you hadn’t agreed to go.” He was guessing, but was sure enough of his sudden insight to wager on being right.
Edwards’ face sagged, confirming Jasper’s theory. Poor fellow. Living amongst forceful women could wear the life out of you. Jasper laid a reassuring hand on Edwards’ arm. “There were times I thought Sophy’s antics would tie my guts in knots.” Times too when he’d fully expected a broken nose, especially after she’d become acquainted with Tom. It hadn’t happened, yet. Good thing too—spoiling the faultless profile he’d inherited from his mother would be a pity. “Sisters are tricky. I won’t forget she’s yours.”
Edwards grunted, but took a long study of Jasper nonetheless, weighing his words for sincerity and measuring him to the last quarter inch. His search was so protracted Jasper wondered if he knew about the rash he took every time he ate strawberries or that he’d once broken his left wrist. He sniffed and scanned the horizon, trying to act like it didn’t trouble him. “Aren’t you coming?” Miss Edwards called, swinging her furled parasol by the handle.
“Directly,” her brother answered. “I’ll take you at your word,” he muttered at Jasper, the words slipped edgeways from the corner of his mouth.
“What’s keeping you?” Laura puzzled, though the smirk hiding behind her wide eyes said she had a very good guess.
“We’re just becoming more perfectly acquainted,” Dr. Edwards said. “I think Rushford and I understand each other now, don’t we?”
Laura glanced between them, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Perfectly,” Jasper said with a nod. “Shall we go on? I believe there’s a fine prospect of the abbey from the north end of the churchyard.”
Fine or not they’d be able to see the church from there and he was reasonably sure he was actually leading them in a northerly direction. If he wasn’t, Dr. Edwards didn’t give him away.
*****
Something had passed back there between them. Though Laura had guesses aplenty, her curiosity to know exactly what had brought about this sudden truce between Rushford and her brother was almost painful. The way they were going on now you’d have thought they’d been cronies for years. Rushford had no interest in the new surgical techniques on which Jack discoursed with such enthusiasm, but he listened with such polite attention Jack couldn’t tell. Her brother did tend to lose himself in his work. It was one of the unfortunate things she couldn’t help but love about him.
Laura spun the handle of her parasol and watched the movement in her pygmy shadow puddled in the grass beside her. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing to stay in Suffolk with Jack. Bury St Edmonds was a pretty town and Jack ought to have someone, a patient ear for when he rambled on about sutures and hands to massage the guilt from his shoulders the times that he failed. There was no one to fill the role but she.
Of course someday Jack would marry, someday soon she hoped. He was thirty but in no hurry. It was selfish of her to cling to London and the theatre when he needed her and wrong to hurt his chances. She shouldn’t have told that curate they were French and Catholic. She’d been thinking of herself, forgetting she and Jack were inextricably connected now they’d come here together. It might have been better if she’d held her ground and refused to come. Though she had tried.
And Rushford—Jasper, his sister called him—well, she might tease and say she’d forget him back in London, but it wouldn’t be so easy. She’d fallen into the habit of playing to him, seeing how long she could hold his gaze, watching for that quick upturn in the left corner of his mouth. She liked him throwing her lines and casting her secretive glances and knew with a sharp plunge these would be hard to give up.
Somehow, without noticing, she’d gotten attached to him.
Chewing her lip, Laura reviewed the past two weeks to find when her heart had first softened. Maybe it was the lines of Sheridan or how sweet he was to Tom’s mother or the sight of him, honed and polished, when he was dressed for dinner. It could have been the sly way he teased her or maybe it was the shock of sighting him that first evening sprawled indolently on Sophy’s couch. Her mistakes had come gradually, inch by inch. Now she found herself in deep water, far away from shore.
She mustn’t panic. The thing to do was slow the breathing and steady the heart, then work until your feet touched bottom. She’d done it before, reclaiming her heart from Lord Harvey and the unsuspecting actor Dan Bowen. Laura’s mouth twisted into a frown. She should have paid closer attention—she knew better than to make this kind of foolish mistake. It might be wise to quit Suffolk now and take herself back to London. Rushford would have to stay here at least until the birth, and she could use the time to detach herself. Yes, she’d miss him at first and London wouldn’t be the same if he stopped jostling his way into her dressing room. But even if he did it wouldn’t be so intimate as this. She needn’t allow the same closeness she did here. It would sting but a clean wound was better than a lingering infection. For now, she must say and do nothing—then she could pick up these memories later, smile, and turn them round in her fingers before returning them to their velvet box. Clever women knew to only wear jewels that suited them: ones they could afford.
“Do you sketch?” Rushford asked, surprisingly near her shoulder. She turned, raising a hand to shade her face from the sun. She wouldn’t look becoming squinting up at him as if he was too brilliant to behold, but he nearly was, set against this backdrop of mammoth church and limitless sky, the sun performing alchemy with his fair hair.
“Jack does a little,” she said. His letters were always decorated with drawings in the margins: ships, specimens, himself sprawled in a hammock with his toes burrowing out the holes in his stockings.
“A very little,” Jack laughed. “Nothing fit to be seen. I wouldn’t attempt the kind of detail required by all this masonry.” Everywhere the eye touched were angles and arches, pediments and capitals.
“If it’s too much to draw, pity the stonecutters,” Laura said. “How long did this take to build?”
Rushford shrugged. “No idea. We could inquire if you like.”
Laura shook her head. “No, I’ve seen enough.”
He offered to show them the butter market, but Jack shook his head. “Best save it for another day. I should be getting back,” he said deciding for all of them despite his single pronoun. “Besides, it’s getting hot.”
It was warm, but Laura didn’t think the temperature to blame for her desire to return to Chippenstone—the pleasure she felt in Rushford’s company was suddenly gone. She couldn’t even blame Jack. Laura sighed. She probably wasn’t meant to be respectable. She enjoyed her vices, such as they were, far too much.
Her attention inward, Laura left the conversation on the journey home to Rushford and Jack. With her brother riding beside the curricle, they covered the level countryside at a decent pace. Lulled by their voices Laura drooped in the sun, loose strands of hair stuck to her forehead, her fingers swollen inside her gloves.
“We’ll stop for lemonade at the White Hart,” Jasper murmured.
They bounced into a rut she was sure he could have avoided, throwing her against him. She gave him a look and the corner of his mouth hitched up the merest fraction, but he kept his eyes on the road. It was a bad sign
, how much she enjoyed the feel of him.
The road dipped through a stream that was baked to a slender trickle, then twined through a stand of trees on the other side. Emerging into the open country Laura sighted a smudge of dust in the distant road that marred the finish of the cobalt sky. She tightened her grip on the carriage rail as Rushford slowed his horses.
“No one rides like that on this road,” he said, eyes fixed on that far away smear. “Not without a reason. Careful,” he said, as Jack drew in beside them.
“Fast, isn’t he?” Jack said, stroking the neck of his sidling horse.
“I think it’s my father,” Rushford said. Laura could just make out a blue-coated rider and a giant, surging black horse.
“It is.” Jasper flicked the reins. The unexpected lurch threw Laura backwards.
“Slow down!” she said. “Are you trying to throw me off?”
“Haven’t lost a passenger yet,” he said as he steered his plunging horses down the road.
“I didn’t realize that made you invincible,” Laura said through clenched teeth. “How foolish of me.” If he heard he made no sign. Lord Fairchild was almost upon them, his horse lathered and blowing hard, a second animal saddled and running behind him. Working in frightening symmetry, Jasper and his father dragged their horses to a stop, ending practically on each other’s toes. “Seen Edwards?” Lord Fairchild asked.
Jasper jerked his head over his shoulder. “He’s with us.”
“Here,” Jack said, pulling up behind them. He glanced at Lord Fairchild. “Is it time?”
Fairchild nodded. “Yes. But my wife and Tom’s mother—they said it didn’t seem right.”
“Her pains are coming quickly?”
“Quick enough we’re all in a panic. But she’s so small and her burden is…”
“Yes, I spoke to Tom of it. I’d best hurry.”
“Ride Philippides.” Lord Fairchild motioned to the horse on the lead. I’ll take you cross country.”
“Mine are still fresh,” Rushford interjected. “If you take Miss Edwards I can take the doctor up in the curricle.”
