Otherwise Engaged Page 3
“And Mama has wagered ten pounds that your maid simply forgot to undress you before your bath.”
Mama swatted William’s arm. “Quiet, you. I’ve never wagered anything in my life.”
“Which made your ten pounds rather shocking, considering the odds.”
“Unfortunately,” I said, “you are all wrong, though I hate to spoil your fun.”
“What did happen?” Juliana straightened. “Your mama said you looked a mess.”
“Which, to be fair, isn’t entirely uncommon.” William could not seem to stop his quips.
I ignored him, a skill I was particularly good at. “I had something of an adventure at the lake.”
“A promising start,” Mama said as she stood. “Let us go in, and you may tell us the rest.”
She came to take my arm as William offered a hand to Juliana and helped her stand. She grimaced and pressed one hand to the side of her belly.
“Juliana?” All teasing vanished from William’s voice.
Juliana waved him off. “I’m all right. Just tired.”
He pulled her arm into his. “I ought to have made you stay home today.”
“Made me stay home?” she repeated, raising her brow.
William blew out a breath. “You take on far more than you should in your condition.”
Mama and I exchanged a glance and started for the door in unison, intent on escaping any marriage squabbles. With the expected arrival of Juliana’s first child only two months away, everyone but Juliana seemed to see that she needed to rest more. However, she insisted she was needed at the school and would hear no arguments to the contrary. I wished William luck.
“I do hope your story is worth the anticipation,” Mama said as we came into the dining room, her words quieting the whispered argument between William and Juliana, following behind us.
“Oh, it is,” I assured her as we seated ourselves around the table. “I had quite the memorable meeting with our new neighbor, whom none of you thought to mention at dinner last night.”
William held out Juliana’s chair for her, and she tipped her head as she sat. “New neighbor?”
“A Lieutenant Avery.” I shook my napkin as an attempt to hide my distaste for his name. “He’s let the Linwood estate.”
“Ah, yes, we met in town the other day.” William took his seat. “Seems a pleasant enough fellow.”
Pleasant was not how I would describe him, but that explained how they knew each other. “I came across him and his younger sister today while riding,” I said. “In fact, his sister got into a spot of trouble at the lake, and I was forced to rescue her.”
“Rescue?” Mama squinted at me as the footmen began serving the steaming soup. “What do you mean?”
I summarized the events of the afternoon, everything from hearing Olivia’s scream to her brother’s lacking manners. Well, everything except for the fact that I’d been riding bareback and that I’d blushed like a bride on her wedding day at the sight of Lieutenant Avery in his wet shirtsleeves.
“She is all right?” Juliana asked when I finished. “The girl?”
“Yes, although I do not envy her when she returned home. I daresay she had a tongue-lashing in store.”
William scrutinized me. “But where was your groom during all of this? Why couldn’t he have rescued the girl?”
Blast and bother. I had too many secrets to keep hidden, and I’d overlooked the most obvious weakness in my story.
“I . . .” I paused, hoping the perfect answer would miraculously materialize before me. But my bad luck for the day continued. I sighed. “I did not take a groom today.”
“For heaven’s sake, Rebecca.” William leaned forward. “Why not?”
“I—I do not know. I hadn’t ridden for a month. I simply wanted to be alone for a while. You cannot blame me for that.”
“I certainly can blame you.” He shook his head. “You promised you would be careful.”
“I was careful,” I insisted. “No harm came to me. And if I hadn’t gone, what would have become of the girl?”
“If you had taken a groom, then he could have helped her.” His voice held an edge. “But that is beside the point. Anything could happen while you are riding, and if you do not have a groom with you—”
“William,” Juliana said, her voice soft yet firm.
William did not speak for a long moment. I pressed my lips together.
“I simply could not bear another accident,” he said finally. “You must know I am trying to protect you, not control you.”
Sometimes it felt very much the same.
But I forced a nod. William was not an unkind brother. Truthfully, we got on nearly as well as siblings could. Certainly better than Lieutenant Avery and his dreadful sister.
And I knew what drove William’s fear, because it was the same thing that drove my determination. The field, green with summer’s growth. My horse limping in pain. My habit streaked with wine-red blood.
I pushed my memories back where they belonged, locked away where they could not drown me. “I know, William. Truly, I do.”
“Then you’ll take a groom with you next time you ride? Or better yet, me?”
I nodded again. “I will. I promise.”
My bareback practice would have to wait. Perhaps until I was married.
A strange anxiety took hold of me at that thought. I’d never told Edward about my riding astride or bareback. I was not even certain he knew I liked to ride at all, considering our short and secretive courtship. But surely once I was a married woman, I could make my own choices.
“I could go with you,” Juliana said lightly, no doubt to ease the still-palpable tension. “I am certain Miranda would enjoy lugging this enormous belly around the countryside.”
Miranda was the calm and quiet mare William had gifted me three years ago, and it soon became clear he’d given her to me only because she was the steadiest and, therefore, the most boring horse I’d ever ridden. Luckily, Juliana had taken a liking to Miranda when Juliana and William had married. I’d graciously given the mount up and then promptly begged William for a thoroughbred, a real racing horse.
William stared at Juliana. “You certainly will not—” Juliana grinned, and he stopped. “You two will be the death of me,” he grumbled and returned to his food.
Juliana laughed, and I offered a weak smile as I raised a spoonful of tasteless soup. No, Juliana couldn’t very well go riding. Was that my future too? Would I be with child a year from now, unable to do the one thing that always brought me such joy?
Mama attempted to rescue the conversation. “What did you think of our new neighbor, Rebecca? I admit I am curious. Mrs. Follett was ever so eager to tell me about him today.”
“What did she tell you?” Better to put off any more details about the incident. Who knew what other secrets I would accidentally betray.
“Quite a lot,” she said. “Apparently, she managed to trap him outside the millinery the other day and pry information from the poor fellow.”
Poor fellow, indeed. I had no particularly warm feelings toward Lieutenant Avery, but not even he deserved the Follett women sniffing after him like a terrier catching the scent of a fox.
“He’s on reserve for the navy at the moment,” Mama went on, daintily sipping her wine. “Come to care for his sister after his stepmother’s death.”
“How long does he intend to stay in the area?” Juliana asked Mama.
Perhaps he wouldn’t stay long, and I could again claim my meadow for practice.
“Mrs. Follett did not know,” Mama said. “But I daresay it shall be nice to have another young man at assemblies. Don’t you think, Rebecca?”
“I suppose.” It was better to agree. I did not want to start another argument at dinner. And perhaps I could ease into the task that Edward and I had discuss
ed before we’d parted. “I met a great many agreeable young men during my visit to Brighton.”
“Oh?” Mama waved the footman forward to serve the potatoes and chicken. “Any that we know from London?”
“Yes, a few.” I spoke matter-of-factly. “Mr. Granville was in town, visiting his aunt. And Sir Anthony came with his sister for the summer.”
Mama nodded. “Such excellent young men.”
Truthfully, both Mr. Granville and Sir Anthony were as dull as my pen after writing a long letter, but I knew Mama approved of them.
“Any suitors I should be aware of?” William raised his fork as if to ward off any challengers. “You are still far too young to marry, in my opinion.”
I normally would have brushed off his comment, but it rankled inside me. I was twenty, after all. “Am I now? Juliana was younger than I when you married, if you’ll recall.”
He held up a hand. “I am teasing, Rebecca. But you must allow me to play the part of the protective brother. Rachel did not allow me the chance since I was a bit young at the time.”
My older sister, Rachel, had married seven years ago, when William was nineteen and I but thirteen. I poked my roasted chicken, considering William’s words. I had no real reason to be irritated with him. He did so much for our family, for me. He worked long hours and traveled constantly, all to support us. I was as ungrateful as they came.
“I shall be sure to inform you when any suitors come my way,” I said with a lightness I did not feel. I hated lying, but it was necessary for the time being.
“Did you make any new acquaintances in Brighton?” Juliana rested a hand on the curve of her belly. She’d taken only a few bites so far.
“Yes, a few.” I gripped my fork tighter. This was it. “Marjorie’s parents hosted a party in my honor, and I met the most charming gentleman, amiable and attentive.”
I’d been seated beside Edward at the table, and we’d spent the entirety of the dinner in easy conversation, laughing through the meal. I’d been taken with him from the first.
But I distanced my thoughts from that pleasant memory and focused on Mama’s face. Her dark, kind eyes, so different from my blue ones, were still unsuspecting.
“Oh?” she said. “What was his name?”
I straightened my spine. “Mr. Bainbridge.”
Mama paused, then slowly lowered her fork to the plate. “Bainbridge?” Her voice took on a cautious tone. “His mother is Augusta Bainbridge?”
“Yes, I believe so.” I tried to pretend I wasn’t perfectly aware of both the name and the reason Mama was reacting like she was. After that first dinner with Edward, we’d gone into the drawing room and Mrs. Bainbridge had practically dragged Edward from my side, glaring at me all the while. It hadn’t been until the next day at an assembly that Edward had found me and told me why.
Mama exhaled sharply. “I do hope that was your only interaction with the family.”
“I saw him a few times.” The less I lied, the easier it would be to remember what secrets to keep. “He was always perfectly pleasant with me.”
“Bainbridge,” William repeated, squinting at Mama across the table. “You mean Papa’s partner?”
“His partner?” I feigned ignorance in the hope that he might reveal more than I knew. “I thought Papa owned the company outright.”
“The elder Mr. Bainbridge was your father’s former business partner.” Mama’s voice, normally soft and unassuming, sounded as tense as my stomach felt. “Nearly fifteen years ago.”
“The one who cheated Papa,” William said darkly.
“Cheated?” My foot, anxiously tapping beneath the table, stilled. I knew of the unpleasant history between our families but had never heard it spoken of in such stark terms. “That must be an exaggeration.”
“Not in the least.” Mama pushed her plate back. “Mr. Bainbridge was a dishonest scoundrel. I know it for a fact.”
I had never heard Mama speak so forcefully. She was normally all that was grace and poise, but now, twin spots of color stained her cheeks, her posture stiff as William’s high, starched collars.
“But what did he do?” I asked. Edward hadn’t known, either, what had caused the falling-out between our fathers. His mother had forbidden him to see me, a command we were more than happy to ignore as we rendezvoused in dark hallways and exchanged notes at parties. But once Edward had proposed, we knew we had to find a solution to this enmity between our families.
Mama shook her head. “You do not need to know that. What happened is in the past, and that is where it should remain.”
My brows knit together. Edward’s task was to collect his family’s side of the story, while I discovered mine. Then we could best formulate a plan to reveal our engagement. It had been my hope that the matter was simple, nothing more than a misunderstanding. But at Mama’s reaction, that hope sank fast into the uneasy sea of my stomach.
I met Juliana’s eyes across the table, and she gave me the slightest shake of her head. I ignored her. “Surely, the sins of the late Mr. Bainbridge should not be held against his son,” I said. “He’s done nothing wrong.”
“He may not have, but that family is poisonous.” Mama’s voice returned to its normal, even tone, as if she were willing it so. “Mrs. Bainbridge is no better than her husband was, and you would do well to stay far from them all.”
I bit back another response. I could not say anything else without revealing I knew far more of the situation than I let on. This would not be the work of one night.
“I doubt I will be seeing much of them now.” I speared a boiled potato, though my appetite had vanished. “I gathered they would be staying in Brighton a few weeks yet.”
A few weeks. That was what Edward and I had decided on. A few weeks for each of us to discover all we could and convince our respective families that a match between us was beneficial. It hadn’t seemed so daunting back in Brighton, with Edward’s reassuring smile and encouraging words.
But now a shadow blocked the warmth of my heart. I hadn’t expected my task to be quite this difficult.
“Good.” Mama spoke the word with finality, dismissing the topic.
I forced down the bite of potato as my thoughts flitted away. I needed to find out more about what had happened between Papa and Mr. Bainbridge all those years ago. I eyed William over my wine glass. He knew more than he was saying, I was certain. Perhaps I could appeal to him for information.
I would find a solution. I would convince Mama that Edward was not who she thought he was, that the past had simply been a misunderstanding. Mama would see Edward the way I did: his wit, his sophistication, his intelligence.
And his good looks certainly did not hurt the matter. He could charm anyone, even my mother.
If only we could find the right opportunity.
Chapter Four
My dear Edward,
I am hoping most desperately to receive a letter from you soon, as four days without word is nearly more than I can stand. I am glad to be reunited with my family, though I cannot help but think of you often. A few weeks apart seems an eternity, but I shall bear it better if I know you miss me as much as I miss you.
I paused my pen, tapping my fingers against the smooth paper. What to say next? Should I give him an account of my less-than-fruitful conversation with Mama last night? I felt I should be candid about the challenge still ahead of us, and yet I did not want to discourage him. My first letter to Edward ought to be hopeful but honest.
Mama hummed a simple folk tune across the morning room, sitting by the window, where the light was better as she embroidered a dress for Juliana’s baby. The child would have more clothes than it would need in a year, and yet Mama insisted on continually sewing more gowns.
I watched her for a long minute. How did she do this every day and not grow weary of it? Sewing, reading, visiting. She had a patience I
’d not been blessed with. I’d been in the room for less than an hour and was already growing restless, glancing at the clock every two minutes to see when I could slip away for a ride.
I was turning back to my letter, determined to find the right words, when the door opened. A footman stepped inside, holding a silver tray that displayed a single card. Excellent. A visitor would be most welcome. It couldn’t be Mrs. Follett again so soon, and I did have a great many acquaintances I liked in Millbury, though my dear friend—and Juliana’s cousin—Eliza had since married and moved with her husband to be closer to her parents.
Mama took the card, and the footman stepped back.
“Who is it, Mama?” I set down my pen.
“Lieutenant Nicholas Avery,” she said with a raised eyebrow.
I straightened. The lieutenant?
“Please show him in,” Mama directed the footman. As he left, she sent me a questioning glance. “Did you have any reason to expect a visit from him after yesterday?”
“None at all,” I said, pretending calmness. But my pulse ticked faster as I stared at my letter to Edward. I couldn’t leave it lying here on the writing desk, where Mama might see it; she currently assumed I was writing to Marjorie. Unlike my habit, my useless morning dress had no pockets, and I had no reticule.
Only one option remained to me. Mama was busy putting away the little gown in her sewing basket, so I quickly folded my letter into a crooked square, the edges of the paper uneven in my haste, and as voices sounded in the entry outside the door, I worked the letter under the left side of my stays, wincing as the awkward corners poked the skin under my arm.
I stood just as Lieutenant Avery stepped into the room, my face heated from my harried movements. He did not spot me right away, as he faced Mama, and I took the chance to examine him. Light hair neatly arranged. Jacket and cravat perfectly pressed. Hessians shining like newly polished silver. Lud, what a difference a day and a bath could make in a gentleman. I would not have recognized him if he did not have that crooked scar along his jaw.
“Good day, Mrs. Rowley,” he said with a bow. “Do forgive us for calling on you without introduction.”