Page 16 of A Lady of Conscience (Somerset Stories #5)

Chapter Fifteen

H annah arranged her skirts around her as she knelt down on the striped blanket Lady Carleton had spread over the grass. It was one of many such blankets scattered about the tree-studded park, each of them occupied by fashionable ladies and gentlemen, talking and laughing, and dining on the offerings from their picnic hampers. Liveried servants stood about them, pouring glasses of champagne and preparing plates of cold chicken, ham, and tongue.

“We are fortunate in the weather,” Lady Carleton said as she unfurled her parasol.

“Indeed, we are,” Hannah agreed. The sky was clear and the sun was shining, with only a whisper of a breeze drifting over the hills to alleviate the warmth of the early afternoon.

“When one has hosted as many picnic parties as I have over the decades, one learns how easily such gatherings can go awry. A single rain shower and the whole affair must be removed indoors. Either that or cancelled altogether.”

“This is my first picnic party,” Hannah admitted. She’d donned a new white muslin dress with a primrose satin ribbon sash for the occasion, and had worn her prettiest straw bonnet. It was in the way of being her armor. She had suspected she would need it.

Charles was meeting with his solicitor this afternoon and had been unable to accompany her. Instead, Hannah had traveled to the picnic site in the Carletons’ barouche, every minute of the journey wishing she could plead a headache or a fever—anything to be permitted to return home.

It was poor spirited of her, she knew. But there was something dreadfully intimidating about a picnic. There was no structure to it. No formality. Unlike a ball, where everything proceeded in accordance with the program of dances, or a dinner, where there existed a seating arrangement. At a picnic party, people moved freely from blanket to blanket. They clustered in self-selected groups, giggling and whispering. Some even wandered off together, to go exploring or to engage in games or sport.

From the moment they’d arrived, Hannah had felt herself on the outside of things. It was why she’d resolved to cleave to her hostess. She’d had little choice in Charles’s absence. As for James, she wasn’t entirely certain he’d been invited, let alone whether he’d be in attendance.

Lady Carleton smiled at her. “Then we must make sure you are well entertained.” She tipped her parasol, shielding her face from the sun. “You must join the young people. There is Miss Fieldstone. And I see Miss Paley with Lord Fennick. She has just arrived from London yesterday. A charming girl, from an estimable family. Her father has come to take the waters. He suffers dreadfully from his gout.”

Hannah had met Miss Fieldstone at a dinner party, and had danced with Lord Fennick for a single set at her first ball. However, she had not yet met Miss Paley. She was a dainty, porcelain-skinned blond, with a decided air about her. Mr. Fennick and another gentleman were dancing attendance on her, giving every indication that they considered Miss Paley to be the belle of the picnic.

“Oh no,” Hannah swiftly objected. “I’m quite happy to remain here with you.”

“You are exceedingly polite, my dear, but I know better. Miss Paley!” Lady Carleton called out to the young lady. “Allow me to introduce you to Miss Heywood.”

Miss Paley gave their hostess a tight smile. She murmured something to her companion before rising from her blanket, with his assistance, and coming to join them. She wore a dress of apple green muslin, with satin trimmed skirts that floated around her like a bell. “Lady Carleton. Miss Heywood. A pleasure.”

“I have just been attempting to persuade Miss Heywood to abandon my poor self for more enlivening company,” Lady Carleton said. “Do be a dear and take her with you. This is her first season, and I am resolved that she make the most of it.”

“If you wish it, ma’am.” Miss Paley’s dark eyes settled on Hannah. Her expression was cool. “Miss Heywood?”

Hannah stood, smoothing her skirts. She had told James that she wasn’t afraid of strangers. That much had been true. But her shyness often manifested as something very like fear. It made her palms grow clammy and her stomach tremble. She did her best to ignore it. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m obliged to you.”

“Not at all.” As they approached Miss Paley’s blanket, Lord Fennick moved toward them. Miss Paley repelled him with a wave of her hand. “Shall we walk?” she asked Hannah.

“If you like.”

“I would like it,” Miss Paley said. “What I don’t like is popping up and down from the grass like a jack-in-the-box. It is most inconvenient.”

Lord Fennick trailed doggedly after them. “Your parasol, Miss Paley.”

Miss Paley accepted it from him. “Fennick? I believe you know Miss Heywood?”

“Miss Heywood.” Lord Fennick offered a perfunctory bow.

“Sir,” Hannah replied, inclining her head.

“Come,” Miss Paley said to Hannah. “Let us take a turn about the park.” She strode away, leaving Lord Fennick behind them.

Hannah kept pace with Miss Paley, walking with her across the grass and toward the tree-lined dirt path that wended its way around the grounds.

“I’m not familiar with the name Heywood,” Miss Paley said. “You are not, I presume, from London?”

“I am not. My parents reside but fifty miles from here, near the village of Heycombe.”

“Your father is a squire?”

“A retired captain of the army. He is the second son of the Earl of Gordon.”

Miss Paley’s eyes flashed to Hannah with sharpened attention. She looked her up and down. “And you are having your season in Bath? Whatever for?”

“I prefer it,” Hannah answered simply.

“The society is not very refined here.”

“I have not found it lacking.”

“You must take my word for it. I had my first season in London. The quality of parties there is far superior to anything you could find in Bath, or Brighton, or Tunbridge Wells. Had my father not needed to take the waters for his health, I would be in London still. I can’t imagine why anyone would ever wish to have their season anywhere else.” Miss Paley gave a disdainful sniff. “But, I suppose, if you desire to wed a farmer or a man of business, Bath is as good a place as any to find such a person.”

Hannah’s mouth curved in spite of herself. She had met many self-important people during her first weeks in Bath, but surely Miss Paley was the most self-important of them all. “I confess, I had not considered my future husband’s profession.”

“I prefer a husband with no profession,” Miss Paley returned. “That is to say, a gentleman.” She opened her parasol. The miniscule white lace shade was so tiny as to be of no practical use at all. “Lady Carleton informs me that Viscount St. Clare is presently in Bath.”

Hannah glanced at Miss Paley in surprise. “Do you know his lordship?”

“I should say so. I saw him but a few days ago in London. We waltzed together at a ball hosted by the Marquess of Deane. St. Clare is an excellent partner.”

A knot of mingled disbelief and astonishment formed in Hannah’s breast. She had not considered that James might have attended balls while he was in London. And she hadn’t imagined him waltzing with other ladies. Not when he’d professed to be thinking of her.

A fork appeared in the road ahead. The right turning led over the hill. The left, back to the expanse of lawn where the rest of the picnic party remained.

Miss Paley guided Hannah to the left. “The marquess’s daughter, Lady Augusta, is a particular friend of mine. Perhaps you’ve met?”

“We have not,” Hannah said.

“Pity. She is a most superior person. I have heard that she and St. Clare might one day—” Miss Paley broke off, coming to an abrupt halt. She stared out at the lawn. “Upon my soul. There is the very man.”

Hannah stilled. She followed Miss Paley’s gaze. Her heart stopped. It was James, sure enough, looking dashing in fashionable morning dress, the sun gleaming in his golden hair. He came to join them on the path.

Miss Paley’s face spread into a dazzling smile. “Lord St. Clare. We meet again.”

James bowed. “Miss Paley.” His gray eyes met Hannah’s. “Miss Heywood.”

“My lord,” Hannah murmured.

Miss Paley looked between them, her smile gone flat. “You are acquainted?”

“Lord St. Clare’s sister is betrothed to my older brother,” Hannah said.

“Oh?” Miss Paley’s tone took on a note of censure. “You might have mentioned such happy news when we met in London, my lord.”

“It quite slipped my mind,” James said, still looking at Hannah.

“Please pass on my congratulations to Lady Katherine,” Miss Paley said.

“I will convey them to her at the first opportunity,” he said. “Miss Heywood? The ruins of a Norman church lie not far over that hill. I had planned to explore them further, if you would care to join me?”

Miss Paley’s lips thinned. “That dreary place? It’s nearly a mile away.”

“An easy enough walk,” James said. “If Miss Heywood is at all interested.”

Hannah managed a small smile. “I would very much like to see the ruins,” she said. “Thank you, my lord.”

* * *

James offered his arm to Hannah as they ascended the hill, and she took it. “Lady Carleton assured me you would be here today,” he said.

“You spoke to her?”

“I called on her yesterday evening to pay my respects. One can’t arrive in Bath without notifying its leading hostess. Not if one has any hopes of attending the best parties.”

Hannah didn’t reply. They walked together in silence for several steps. “How do you know Miss Paley?” she asked at last.

Ah.

So that was it.

James had sensed there was something amiss. The smile she’d given him when he’d arrived had been guarded. Even the hand she’d rested on his arm was light and noncommittal, as though she might remove it any moment and draw away from him again. He felt a flicker of apprehension.

And of satisfaction too, he was ashamed to admit.

If Hannah was in any ways jealous of Miss Paley, it could only mean that she was coming to care for him a little.

“She’s the sister of a fellow I knew at Eton,” he said. “I met her many years ago when I went to stay with him over a summer holiday. It isn’t a visit I look back on with any degree of fondness.”

“She told me that she saw you in London but a few days ago, and that she danced with you at a ball given by the Marquess of Deane. Is that true?”

“It is.”

“Is that what you did while you were in London? Attended balls?”

“Among other things.”

Hannah fell quiet again. She remained silent until they had nearly crested the hill. “I had not thought—” She broke off before she could finish.

James slowed on the path to look at her. “What hadn’t you thought?”

“That you were in such good spirits while you were away.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Miss Paley claims that, during your brief time in town, you resumed your courtship of the marquess’s daughter, Lady Augusta.”

James somehow managed to keep his countenance. Whatever his actions in London, and whatever his thoughts about the suitability of Lady Augusta as a prospective bride, he had never had the smallest intention of hurting Hannah.

“If that’s what Miss Paley has told you, she has been woefully misinformed,” he said.

“Then, you didn’t resume your courtship?”

“There was no courtship to resume.”

“And you didn’t waltz with the lady?”

His brows sank. “I did, but… It was no more than a civility.”

“I see.” Hannah’s hand fell from his arm.

James keenly felt the absence of it. “You’re displeased with me.”

“I haven’t any right to be.”

“You have more right than anyone.” He caught her gently by the forearm, bringing her to a halt in front of him beneath the branches of an oak tree. “I was miserable in London.”

She gazed up at him. Her eyes held an aching uncertainty.

In that moment, James would have done anything to assuage it. “I spent every moment at the boxing saloon or with my fencing master, attempting to rid myself of these feelings I have for you,” he said. “And yes, I attended the marquess’s ball. I stupidly thought that your rejection might make another lady more palatable to me. Obviously, it didn’t. Even knowing that you didn’t want to marry me, I couldn’t fix my interest on anyone else.”

Hannah’s mouth trembled. “Your sister described Lady Augusta as a paragon.”

“She is.”

“And I am not, as my behavior yesterday will have amply proved to you.”

“I have no expectations in that regard,” he said. “I was a fool to have implied that I did.” He offered her a slight smile. “As for your rescue of the donkey, you will hear no criticism from me. I thought you conducted yourself magnificently.”

Hannah’s chin dipped down with embarrassment. “I don’t know about magnificent. It was an awful blunder, even if it was ultimately for the good.”

“As a man who has lately made several awful blunders, I can but commiserate.”

It was her turn to smile. This time it wasn’t a guarded one. It was warm, and a little rueful. “How is he?” she asked. “Have you made any arrangements for him yet?”

“At present, he’s comfortably ensconced with my horses at the Bull and Crown. Tomorrow, however, one of my grooms will be escorting him to Beasley Park. There are few places in the world more idyllic for human or animal. I’m confident he’ll be happy there. Or as happy as a donkey can be.” He offered her his arm again. “Shall we continue to the church?”

She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Donkeys are capable of great happiness,” she informed him. “Haven’t you ever heard them braying with joy when they recognize a friend in the pasture? It is the most heart-warming sound.”

“I shall take your word for it,” James said.

Together they walked on over the rise and down the serpentine path along a small woodland. The church was visible in the distance, its crumbling stone edifice rising amidst a stand of trees. It had walls, but no roof. Only the tower remained intact.

“Have you been here before?” he asked.

“Never,” she replied. “Have you?”

“Once, when I was a lad. My brothers and I explored the ruins while my parents lunched on the grass with Kate. She threw a dreadful tantrum when she couldn’t come with us. Her face turned as red as a ripe tomato.”

Hannah’s lips quivered with reluctant amusement. “Poor thing. Why didn’t you allow her to join you?”

“She was but a small child at the time. We none of us wanted the charge of her. Not very gallant, I know, but we were scarcely much older ourselves.”

“Did you and your brothers play together often as children?”

“As often as any brothers might.” James glanced at her. “Does that surprise you?”

“It does, a little, I confess. You never joined in with Ivo and Jack’s merriment when I visited Beasley Park, or when your family came to stay at Heywood House.”

“No,” he acknowledged, his expression sobering. “Things changed after I went away to school.” He paused. “ I changed.”

“How?”

“I grew up.”

Her eyes briefly met his as they continued down the path. Her gaze was soft with understanding. “Was it at school that you learned to wield such control over your emotions?”

A frown creased his brow. “I don’t know. Probably.”

“I begin to think you had a difficult time there.”

His mouth twisted in a fleeting, humorless smile. “Everyone has a difficult time at school. Young boys are savages. They grow into unpleasant men. One can either learn to ignore it or else spend his days in an endless succession of brawls over his family’s honor.”

“Is that what the trouble was? Your family?”

“In my case? Yes. For the most part. Paley and Fennick greatly enjoyed baiting me on the subject.”

“Lord Fennick?” she repeated. “I wasn’t aware you were at school with him.”

“It didn’t bear mentioning.”

“He’s here today. He was sitting with Miss Paley on her picnic blanket.”

James looked at her. “So long as he wasn’t sitting with you.”

A soft flush crept up her throat. “Indeed not. I did dance with him once, but that was quite enough. Now I know he was unpleasant to you, I shall take pains to avoid him.”

James was touched by her show of loyalty. It was yet another small proof that she was coming to care for him. He marked it well, adding it to the other evidence he’d been collecting. Taken altogether it surely had to weigh in his favor.

“Who were you sharing your picnic blanket with, then?” he asked her.

“Lady Carleton,” she answered.

“Perhaps you will permit me to join you when we return?”

The blush at her throat suffused into her cheeks in a delicate, watercolor stain. “I would like that.”

James’s blood warmed. He felt at once both besotted by and profoundly protective of her. He covered her hand with his on his arm. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet, no,” she said. “I had not accounted for all the cold meats being brought. It’s been difficult to find anything that hasn’t mingled with them in the picnic hampers.”

“I’ll find something for you when we return,” he promised her.

She gave him a grateful smile. “An orange would suffice.”

“You shall have one,” he vowed.

The church loomed ahead. James led Hannah into what remained of the churchyard. It was overrun with grass and thorny bushes and brambles. Crooked headstones peeped out from the overgrowth. The graves were hundreds of years old, the chiseled names of their occupants worn to near invisibility over the centuries.

Hannah let go of his arm in order to clutch her skirts. She raised them above her ankles as they picked their way through the graveyard. “It doesn’t seem right for the church to be abandoned. Not when people are still buried here.”

“The villagers could hardly hold services without a roof.”

“They could repair it.”

“They’ve no incentive to do so. There’s a church in the next village that fits the purpose. I presume most of them attend services there.”

She gazed up at the tower. “Can we go inside?”

“If you wish.”

“Is it safe?”

“Safe enough.” James offered his hand to her to assist her over the stones. She took it. “Mind your head. The ceiling is rather low.”

“Normans weren’t very tall, I gather.”

He smiled. “Perhaps not.” He led her through the entrance of the tower to the winding stair. The steps were solid stone. So too were the walls. They were in no danger, but the way was steep and narrow. It was impossible for two people to ascend except single-file.

Hannah climbed ahead of him, still holding his hand. “It’s exceedingly cold up here.”

“It was when I visited too,” he said. “Jack claimed it was because the tower is haunted.”

“Haunted?” She stopped short on the step above, turning abruptly to look at him.

James inelegantly bumped into her. Hannah’s foot slipped on the stone. She fell against him, her hands clutching his shoulders for balance. He caught her waist, steadying her before they both lost their footing. “Careful,” he said.

Their faces were nearly level. James found himself staring into her eyes. She looked back at him in breathless silence.

And he didn’t think. He didn’t strategize. For once, he acted purely with his heart, doing what he most wanted to do. What he’d dreamed of doing from almost the first moment of their acquaintance.

He bent his head and he kissed her.