Page 18 of Hastings (Brothers in Arms #15)
CHAPTER 18
E ssie almost scrambled to her knees and ran after Hastings as he jogged slowly to the house. Esme’s hand on her arm held her back.
“Why didn’t you come to call?” Esme asked. She didn’t sound coy, just curious.
“I’ve never called on anyone in my life,” Essie said uncomfortably. “It seemed like a lot of bother.”
“Oh,” Esme said, as if she understood something that even Essie did not. “Well, it’s all very simple. You just come ’round during visiting hours—that’s from around noon to three at our house. Mama and Father and Papa aren’t very formal about it. Then we sit around and drink tea and have sandwiches and cakes and talk. Haven’t people been coming by the parsonage to see you?”
“Not me,” Essie said, using her good hand to roll over and come to her knees. She leaned on the tree as she stood. “I’ve bolted out of sight as soon as the knocks come.” She shuddered. “I’ve no desire to do any of that with strange people come to gawk at me.” She walked over and leaned against the garden wall. She felt more relaxed with some space between her and Esme.
Esme laughed. She didn’t seem put out by Essie’s abandonment. “Oh, they mean no harm. They’d gawk at you no matter who you were. We don’t get many strange visitors here in Ashton on the Green. I mean, someone from London always seems to be dropping by, but it’s people we know. Have known for quite a long time, actually. It’s just the excitement of new faces, who might have news that hasn’t reached us here yet, or some exciting stories to tell, or someone to make another place at a dinner party.”
“A dinner party?” Essie exclaimed in horror. “Surely no one expects me to do that?”
Esme nodded. “I’m afraid the time will come,” she told her. “You’ll be invited as a guest of Mr. Matthews.”
“God no,” Essie said, closing her eyes and dropping her head back on her shoulders. “I’d rather have another knife fight.” Essie made an effort not to drop her H .
“Well, the widow O’Bannon just died, and she’s the only one around here who might have done so. You’ll have to settle for dinner.” She sounded very amused, and Essie cracked an eye open at her.
“Oh, you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” she accused Esme. “Watching me fall on my face around all the genteel folk.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Esme asked, her face scrunched up in what looked like genuine confusion. She was so damned pretty sitting there in a blue plaid dress with a matching ribbon on her bonnet that Essie had to remind herself how young she was. Think of Mary Peppers , she told herself, trying and failing to recall the exact shade of her lady love’s hair, or how she looked in the sunlight.
“If I haven’t called on anyone, I’ve certainly never been to a dinner party,” Essie told her a little too sharply.
“Well, you were at the picnic,” Esme said. “That’s no different. It’s worse, actually, because the duke and duchess were hosting it, and even though they are dears—did you know the duchess’s father was the parson here when she was young?—it can be nerve-wracking to be entertained at the Park, especially the first time. Isn’t the duke one of the most imposing people you’ve ever met? I’ve known him almost my whole life, but those eyes.” She shivered. “It’s like he can see into your soul.”
“The duke?” Essie asked in confusion. “The redheaded fellow? He seemed all right to me.” She shrugged. “Not afraid of anyone looking into my soul, that’s for sure. I’ve had too many people after what I’ve actually got to be worried about something I can’t see or feel or am even sure I have. He can have my soul, just leave my lunch and coat alone, thank you.”
Esme laughed, as Essie had wanted her to. “The duke would be more likely to buy you a grand lunch and a new jacket, just on a whim. That’s the sort of thing he does and expects nothing in return.”
“Nothing in return?” Essie frowned. “Everybody expects something, sometimes they just hide it better.”
“I think you’ll find the duke is not one of them,” Esme told her quietly. “But,” she said, her voice rising cheerfully to the gay tone Essie was used to from her already, “what I was going to say was that the rest of us here in Ashton on the Green are far more informal than they are at the Park. So, you needn’t worry about going to dinner parties. As a matter of fact,” she said, clapping her hands together, “I shall have Mama invite you first! What a splendid idea. And you can sit next to me, and I shall help you get on.”
“Where is Hastings with that book?” Essie muttered, turning toward the parsonage. Things here were going from bad to worse.
“Why don’t we go and see if he found it?” Esme said, standing up and dusting her hands and dress off. “If he can’t, I shall lend you my copy.”
Essie was surprised the girl wanted to leave their isolated spot. “I…yes, let’s go find him.”
“And I shall say good afternoon to the parson,” Esme said with a sigh. “Mama is always telling me to greet the parson.” She turned to Essie as she passed her and then in a flash reached out and captured Essie’s free hand. “He introduced Mama to Father and Papa, you know,” she continued without missing a beat, dragging Essie behind her. “He knew they’d be perfect for each other.”
“He what?” Essie asked, shocked to her core. The sweet, kind, innocent, don’t-swear-in-front-of-him parson introduced Esme’s mother to both men? Fully intending that she involve herself with both? The shock made her follow Esme tamely. Every time Essie thought she understood someone, they surprised her without fail.
“Hastings, have you found that book?”
Maddy heard Essie calling out from the hallway and jerked away from Hastings. She’d kissed him. What on earth was she thinking? This was Hastings. The bane of her existence, the thorn in her side, the man who was chasing after the parson. Her parson. Why was he kissing her? Why was she kissing him? Had they both gone mad? Whatever was happening to her around him felt like madness. She’d vowed to be better about her tendency to take what she wanted when she wanted it and damn the consequences. And now look at what had happened.
“Let me down,” she whispered.
He picked her up by the waist without a word and plopped her down on the floor. It was so abrupt she stumbled but this time he just grabbed hold of her hand. He had very strong hands, with long fingers that wrapped around hers and held her steady. It calmed her nerves.
“That’s not a book,” Essie said sarcastically from the doorway. “It’s Madelyn.”
Maddy snatched her hand back from him. “Essie!” she said, pasting a smile on her face. “There you are! I fell off the stool. I’m so grateful Hastings was here to catch me.”
“I’m sure you are.” Essie’s voice was so dry it made Maddy thirsty. “And you were standing on a stool in the middle of the doorway because…?”
“Oh, no,” Maddy rushed to assure her. “No, I was trying to get a book off the top shelf. I wasn’t here. Originally, I mean. I was over there. But now I’m here. How did I get here?”
“Really?” Hastings asked, his tone nearly identical to Essie’s. It must be something they taught them at shadowy government agent school. “Can you really not do better than that?”
“I say, Mrs. Higgs, he’s not wrong.” Miss Marleston stepped into the parlor behind Essie. “It’s a good thing I’m not Mr. Matthews. He’d never have believed that.”
Mr. Matthews . Maddy could feel the blood draining from her face. What was she doing ruining her chances with the good parson? For Hastings, of all people? He was exactly the same as every man she’d ever known—arrogant, judgmental, vicious. He was the kind of man she was running away from. She’d promised never to get involved with his type again. Now he was going to run and tell Mr. Matthews what a strumpet she was. She’d never get her perfect romance now, never have a chance at a sweet man, even temporary as it was bound to be. Everything was ruined, because she couldn’t control her unruly nature. She was always, always ruining everything.
“Mads?” Essie asked, stepping toward her. “Are you all right?”
“Madelyn?” It was Hastings’s voice right next to her that pulled her out of her own head.
“You,” she said, turning on him. “It’s all your fault.” She took steps away from him. “You’re trying to ruin it, aren’t you? That’s what all this was about.” She waved vaguely in the direction of the stool and the bookcase to indicate what had just happened between them. “Well, I’m not some country simpleton to fall for your schemes. Do you hear me? You’ll have to try harder than that.”
“I wasn’t trying at all,” Hastings said, sounding so smug and annoying he made Maddy grate her teeth. “When I do, you’ll know it.” Something flashed in his eyes that could have been hurt at her accusation, belying his tone, but Maddy ignored it.
“Ruin what?” Miss Marleston asked, sounding quite curious.
“You don’t want to know,” Essie told her. “ I don’t want to know. Come on, let’s go ask the parson if he even has the book.”
“He’s in his office,” Hastings told her, his eyes on Maddy. “Working on his sermon. Or writing letters. He’s always writing something.”
“Probably a book,” Essie said with undisguised disgust. “Everyone here seems obsessed with books.”
“He’s in there with Mr. Schillig,” Maddy told them.
The two young women left amid a flurry of whispers on Miss Marleston’s part and Essie’s loud comments about people who should know better.
“Mads,” Hastings began, his gentle voice grating on her nerves, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Of course he didn’t. No one ever means anything by it. She tipped her chin up and went to make a scathing reply, but the words jammed in her throat. Instead, she spun around and took two more steps toward the window. She stared out at the front lane, the garden beyond, on the left. She’d watched Hastings and Essie through the window this morning, just sitting out there together, having a grand time talking.
“Don’t ruin this for me,” she finally said, hating how small she sounded. “This is all just temporary. You know it is. I’ve no idea where I’ll go or what will happen after Sir Barnabas catches my…Bleecker.” She had enough control to turn back to face him. “Maybe it’s all pretend, but I want to pretend for a little while. I want to pretend I am what he tried to make me, just a silly lady with nothing to do but read books and flirt with a handsome parson and make some friends. With no past and no regrets, and a bright future. I won’t take anything away from you, Hastings. I promise.” She laughed, and it was tinged with self-deprecation. “I probably won’t even be able to teach Essie a damn thing, either. So you won’t have undo any damage I might cause.”