Georgia laughed. “Don’t sound so disappointed, my dear. Being grown up isn’t so terrible.”
“Maybe not once you’re finished. It’s this awkward in-between stage,” Vicky said with melancholy before quickly waving her hand dismissively. “Never mind my foolish whims, my dear. See to your guests and tell me what you want me to do.”
Georgia shrugged. “I think the servants have it all under control. It seems to me they’re having nearly as much fun with my ideas as I’ve had.”
Vicky smiled and nodded and took the seat Georgia indicated, trying to enter into the spirit of the event. At least, it seemed like everyone else was delighted with the excursion, she thought as she looked around at the assembled guests. Her gaze was momentarily ensnared by the perceptive stare of Ashford Northcott. For a moment, Vicky felt as though he were reading her soul, and she quailed lest he know all her secrets. The wink he quickly offered her made her want to laugh and cry in turns. She blinked and turned away, hoping to be able to ignore him.
She watched as her new friend Lady Delilah ensnared his attention. Ashford had to lean closer to hear her soft spoken speech over the hubbub of the excited crowd. Vicky turned away, fighting the tide of jealousy that was rising in her belly. She knew that was the emotion but she couldn’t explain, even to herself, why she could possibly be experiencing such feelings. She certainly didn’t want Mr. Ashford Northcott for herself. It was beyond churlish for her to begrudge him to her friend. But that was certainly what she seemed to be feeling.
Forcing an expression of delight onto her face, Vicky turned to the gentleman on her left.
“Lord Cranston, we haven’t had a chance to speak yet, how are you? Did you have a good journey here?”
“Oh, yes, my lady, thank you, and I apologize for not having made the time to greet you upon my arrival.”
Vicky was immediately remorseful. “My apologies, my lord, I had no intention of calling you to task,” she declared with light laughter. “We’ve all been preoccupied and the nature of a house party allows for longer conversations with some, but then, perhaps, shorter or no conversations with others. But there is nothing to apologize for in that. It is just how it is.” She allowed a brief pause before carrying on. “We had a delightfully uneventful journey from Town. Crossley rode much of the time, which I daresay was lovely, but I think it would have been particularly tiring for Lady Crossley.”
“Oh, to be sure,” the good natured young baron agreed promptly. “For my part, I rode as well. The weather was perfect. I broke up my journey with a visit to my sister, so it was killing two birds with one stone as the saying goes.”
Vicky didn’t particularly enjoy that expression, but she smiled and nodded anyway.
“And how is your sister? She married Viscount Drysdale last year, didn’t she?”
“That she did, and well on the way to presenting him with their first child, so I was glad to get to see her as they hadn’t come up for the Season. As her older brother, it’s hard for me to envision her as a mother, but I’m pleased to see that she seemed quite content with her lot.”
Vicky smiled, again reminded of just what she was supposed to be trying to arrange for herself.
Lord Cranston seemed like a perfectly pleasant gentleman, but Vicky found she couldn’t muster up much excitement for the prospect of him courting her. Her attention kept drifting toward Ashford and whatever he might have been discussing with Delilah. Vicky hadn’t thought the shy young woman had quite so much to say, and she struggled with the angry jealousy that was eating her insides.
She cleared her throat and tried to carry on a conversation with the gentleman, despite her reluctance.
“I was sorry to hear about your father’s passing. How are you settling into your new responsibilities?”
The expression that crossed his face was a mixture of pleasure and surprise, making Vicky wonder if perhaps she shouldn’t have asked such a question. She didn’t think it was so very controversial. While it was an awkward situation for a man to have to await his father’s death in order to inherit, that was the way of life, so it shouldn’t be a remarkable topic.
“I was most fortunate to have a father who had not begrudged my interest in the estate. In fact, in recent years I had taken on much of the responsibility, so it wasn’t much of a transition,” he finally answered.
“Well, that is probably for the best, since it must be such a challenge to be in mourning in addition to needing to learn how to run a large estate.”
“True. But perhaps it would lessen the grief if you could be truly distracted with your labours.”
Vicky, always imaginative and compassionate, began to think of how it must be to inherit from a much loved father and felt tears well in her eyes.
“Oh, my dear Lady Vigilia, I do apologize if I’ve caused you distress.” Lord Cranston was quick to regret his words.
Vicky tried to wave away his concerns. “Please, don’t be troubled. It just made me think of my brother. I do hope he doesn’t inherit for decades to come.”
“Of course,” Cranston commented, despite how uncomfortable he appeared.
The tingle along the back of her neck alerted Vicky to the fact that Ashford was likely looking her way. She debated about catching him at it but worried that she was imagining things. With a sigh of relief, Vicky noticed that the servants were beginning to clear away the meal. She wasn’t in the least bit disappointed when Lord Cranston excused himself from her side. She might regret that there hadn’t been the least spark between them, but she was glad to have the interlude over with.
“Was your repast more enjoyable than mine?”
The low voice that sent shivers down her spine could belong to none other than Ashford Northcott. Vicky wasn’t sure how he had managed to approach her without her notice, but perhaps she had been more preoccupied with dissecting her conversation with Cranston than she had realized. She turned toward Ashford with her eyebrows elevated.
“It’s doubtful, Mr. Northcott, seeing as your companion was doing far more laughing than I or mine were.” As soon as the words had left her mouth, Vicky wished she could recall them as they clearly revealed just how aware she had been of whom he had spent the picnic with.
“I didn’t ask about our companions, my dear,” he countered with a twinkle in his eye.
~~~
Ash hadn’t picked Lady Delilah at random. He had hoped she might be able to ensnare his attention enough to keep it off Lady Vigilia. He had been wrong. While she seemed like a nice enough young woman, and he appreciated her quiet attentiveness, she wasn’t as bright as he had at first thought and despite her easy-going manner and sense of humour, she hadn’t struck him as a good companion for his life. He understood that most didn’t make such decisions on a brief acquaintance, but he was used to relying on instincts and deciding matters on first impressions. While she might grow on him with time, she had not been able to prevent his eyes from straying across the table to see how Vigilia was faring. Lady Delilah was not for him. And it wasn’t even the giggling that had done her in for him, he thought with wry amusement as it dawned on him that Vicky had noticed.
“I didn’t really think Cranston was the sort to tell jokes, so I’m not surprised that you weren’t laughing as much as we were.”
“So, were you the jester or Lady Delilah?” Vigilia surprised him by asking.
He fought a surge of embarrassment. He wasn’t even certain why. “Neither, really,” he finally replied, hoping he wasn’t blushing like a debutante as her eyebrows rose in surprise.
“You were just laughing for the joy of life, then?” she asked, the sound of suppressed laughter evident in her voice.
“You make that sound like a bad thing,” he replied, trying to make her laugh with his tone of complaint. It worked. She was struggling to climb back up into her saddle as she shook with laughter. Ash was ridiculously gratified at his success.
It was fortunate that she wasn’t heavy, as she still had her foot i
n the cup of his hands. He hoisted her a bit higher to assist her in gaining the saddle. Her eyes were bright and her face was split with a grin as she muttered her thanks in between her giggles. As he quickly climbed onto his own horse, he glanced over at her. She was waving her hand in front of her face and trying to regain her composure.
“It wasn’t even that funny,” she said. “I don’t know why I can’t stop laughing about it.” Now, the girl sounded nervous. Ash hoped the ride would put her at ease and they could have a better visit than they had on the ride to the ruins.
“Did you enjoy this excursion as much as you had hoped?”
He was watching her closely and was thus able to catch the clearly conflicted feelings that flitted across her expressive face before she smiled and nodded.
“Oh yes, the ruins are marvelous, aren’t they? I do hope I can return again to explore when there are perhaps fewer people.”
Ash smiled. One of the things he liked about her was her apparent comfort with her own company. Some young women seemed to require being in a group at all moments. Lady Vigilia didn’t seem averse to others, but she also seemed quite content to enjoy quiet and solitude. It amused him to watch her seem to realize that she might have insulted him. She didn’t always appear to mind insulting him, but Ash had noticed she wanted it to be deliberate, not accidental.
“That is to say, Mr. Northcott, that it’s a trifle more enjoyable to explore when it’s truly an exploration rather than a social event.”
He nodded as though in understanding but then had to ask, “What would be different for you if it wasn’t a social event?”
Finally, she seemed to relax enough to allow the rich laughter that he loved to hear from her. It was rare for her to do so in his presence.
“For one thing, I wouldn’t be nearly as concerned about not getting dirty. And could allow myself to become absorbed in my own thoughts instead of needing to pay attention to what others might be saying.”
Ashford joined her in laughing. “I can see how that would be far more enjoyable.” He allowed silence to lapse between them for a moment before asking her gently, “Would you rather be left to your own thoughts now? We can just ride along in silence, if you’d prefer.”
She stared at him with a somewhat inscrutable expression. Ash suspected she was enthralled with his suggestion.
“Wouldn’t that be rude of me?”
Ash laughed again. “Not since I offered. It might be rude if I was trying to have a conversation and you just ignored me, but if we both have agreed to spend some time with our own thoughts, then we’re being most polite, wouldn’t you agree?”
She laughed and shook her head but didn’t bother replying; she merely allowed her horse to sidle up next to his and matched his pace.
It was a beautiful day and the surroundings were picturesque. While Ash would have enjoyed finding out from Lady Vigilia what she had discussed with Bertram, he found himself quite enjoying the companionable silence that grew between them.
Close to ten minutes had passed by as they were each absorbed in their own thoughts, causing Ash to suspect they would make the entire trip back to Crossley in silence, when Vigilia surprised him with a question.
“Might I interrupt your thoughts to ask you a question, Mr. Northcott?”
“You certainly may,” he answered with a grin.
She returned his smile with a small one of her own, as though she were anxious, and he was instantly contrite. “What is it?” he prompted as he grew concerned.
Again, her smile was small and tight, but she took a deep breath and asked, “Do you have any sort of relationship with the Court?”
If Ash had tried to guess what she was going to ask him, never in a year of guesses would he thought of that. He frowned over her words, wondering what could possibly be behind them.
“The King’s Court, do you mean?” At her vigorous nod, he frowned again. “Not in particular,” he said. “Why are you asking? Do you think I might make a good courtier?” He tried to make light of her question, but she seemed terribly earnest for the strange question. When she continued to stare at him, chewing on her lip as though she were nervous, Ash fought the urge to pull her into his arms to offer comfort to her.
“What is it, my dear? Have you been invited to court?” Ash couldn’t imagine what had prompted the strange question and her equally strange nervous reaction.
“No, no, no reason, really, I was just wondering if you know His Majesty well or have had any dealings with him.”
Ash shrugged, not really convinced this was what had motivated her question, as she seemed far too skittish for it to be something so simple as just making conversation. His eyes flitted over to where Bertram was ahead of them, riding with Lord Clifton, but had turned in his saddle to watch him and Vigilia’s approach. His heart felt as though it had skipped a beat, and his mind almost stuttered to a stop for a split second. Was the bounder truly trying to involve Lady Vigilia in his traitorous schemes? Ash had suspected as much but hadn’t thought the viscount would actually stoop to such lows.
“Has Lord Bertram been speaking ill of His Majesty, my lady? Is that your concern? Because even if I was close with the king, I wouldn’t necessarily run to him with tales. It would be far better to intervene with any plots than to run to Court for help.”
The young woman beside him paled suddenly and was blinking rapidly. She began to stammer. “No, no, of course he wasn’t speaking ill of the king. How could anyone do so? I don’t know His Majesty well, of course, but he seemed quite lovely when I was presented. And, of course, him being unwell lately.”
“My lady, whatever has come over you?” Ashford finally interrupted her wild flow of words. “Have you had too much sunshine this afternoon?”
He watched as she clamped her lips between her teeth as though to keep herself silent. She shook her head and avoided meeting his gaze. Ash’s gaze again slid toward Lord Bertram, who appeared inordinately interested in their conversation.
“Vigilia, you know I’ll stand your friend if you should ever need one, right?”
It was evident to him that she was trying to recover her sorely misplaced composure. She offered him a smile that didn’t quite seem sincere.
“Of course, Mr. Northcott, thank you, but I truly meant very little by my question. I was merely making conversation. But if you don’t wish to discuss politics, perhaps you’d like to tell me about your business affairs.” Suddenly, her face flooded with colour, and she finally met his eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I was just wondering if you miss India or if you were relieved to return to England.”
Ashford laughed. These seemed to be the first genuine words out of her mouth since they had started their ride back to Crossley.
“That’s a difficult question to answer, to be honest.” His words brought a charming wrinkle to her nose.
“What’s difficult about it?” she demanded.
“I’m really of two minds on the topic. Having grown up in England, I will probably always feel an affinity for it. But I have seen some remarkably beautiful parts of the world that I long to return to when I am here. On the other hand, when I am elsewhere, I long to return home. It is a dreadful conundrum.”
Her rich laughter rang out, sounding to him as though there were an edge of hysteria to it, but she seemed to be relaxing back into his company.
“So then, where do you wish you were right now?” she demanded.
“For the first time in an age, I am actually perfectly content exactly where I am,” he admitted, causing a tinge of pink to colour her cheeks. She opened her mouth as though to reply but then shut it in silence. Finally, after a less comfortable silence had settled between them, she turned to him once more.
“Other than England, then, which has been your favourite place you’ve seen? And have you been everywhere?”
Ash laughed again and relaxed back into his saddle. “Certainly, not everywhere. The world is a shockingly vast place, and it takes an age
to get there. But I have greatly enjoyed my many travels. I’m not sure if I can pick a favourite, as each place is so very different. The bustle of a new country is enticing in New York. I would like to see more of America, but it seems almost unending. And I do not think I could endure weeks and months of sitting on a horse without certain things that I, as a spoiled Englishman, consider necessities but truly aren’t. It’s bad enough at sea, but at least you can bring a few things with you.”
The wide-eyed, admiring stare Vigilia was giving him made his chest threaten to burst the buttons of his jacket, and he fought to contain his response.
“Do you find it boring here after all your adventures?” Her voice was small and hollow as she asked the question, as though she felt boring in contrast. He was quick to assure her.
“Not in the least. It’s a different sort of adventure here, wouldn’t you say?”
She continued to stare at him wordlessly, so he carried on. “My family is here. What I consider home is here. Everything dearest to me is here. So, while I have greatly enjoyed my adventures, I certainly cannot say that there is anything boring about home.”
A wide smile split her face and she nodded as though in agreement, but she again didn’t add to the conversation. It was somewhat unlike her, but he found her attentive silence appealing so he added, “In fact, further to your question about the Crown, even though I found America fascinating, it felt almost disloyal to enjoy it. I may not be close with His Majesty, but he certainly has my allegiance.”
A strange expression flitted across the girl’s face, but she didn’t remark upon his words, merely nodding decisively before asking, “Would you say you’re close with Viscount Eastwood?”
Ash couldn’t fathom what had triggered the girl’s strange series of questions that day, but he was glad to see that she wasn’t turning her nose up at him, as she had been wont to do at times over the past month.
“One of the drawbacks of being away so much of my adult life is that I’m not as familiar with people as I would like. But there’s something about the relationships we form as boys. Even though I only spent a couple years at Eton before going off to sea, I’ll never forget the time I spent with ones such as your brother-in-law. Both of them, actually. I’m sure you can relate, since you’re still so close with Lady Crossley.”
A Gentleman to Avoid: Sweet Regency Romance (Sherton Sisters Book 3) Page 11
