Page 28 of Hastings (Brothers in Arms #15)

CHAPTER 28

S tephen hadn’t gotten back from his rounds until it was almost time to leave for the Westridges’s, so he didn’t have time to talk to Madelyn alone about last night. He knew he needed to. She and Hastings were acting very odd with each other and with him. Essie had been giving them all strange looks in the carriage.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Essie grumbled to no one in particular.

“It will be fun, Es,” Madelyn told her. “I know it will.” Madelyn seems nervous, too, and it sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

“It will be fun,” he told them. “The Westridges are very informal, and they like conversation over dinner. Be careful, Valentine will talk your ear off about his horses and his hounds, Kurt will bore you to tears with talk of schooling and education and Bastian’s—that’s their son—accomplishments at school. Leah will talk about the children and books as well as fashion and the latest gossip. And Leah’s mother, Mrs. Northcott, I don’t believe you’ve met her yet, will agree with all of them. She’ll most likely sit next to Esme because she’s losing her hearing and Esme, sweet child that she is, doesn’t mind repeating everything for her. And after dinner we shall play some games.”

Madelyn had been listening as if there was going to be an exam over the material. Essie looked appalled. “How many blasted people are going to be there?”

“That seems like the logical number of people, Essie,” Madelyn told her seriously. “We met most of them at the picnic, remember? Except for Mrs. Nor..cott?”

“Northcott,” Hastings said. “Like that devil North, but with a cott.” He had been quiet the entire ride until this comment. Madelyn smiled at him.

“Northcott,” she said. “North—Northcott. That’s a brilliant way to remember. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Hastings went back to staring out the window.

“What’s your problem?” Essie asked him rudely. “You look like you’ve swallowed a toad.”

“Well, I’m not ready to croak,” Hastings assured her. “I’m just not very good at these social obligations, either.”

“Just don’t get drunk,” Stephen told him. “That seems to be when you commit most of your social infractions.”

“I’ll try not to crawl naked into anyone’s bed at Cantley House,” Hastings drawled sarcastically.

“I should hope not,” Stephen said. “That is something that should be reserved for the parsonage.”

Everyone in the carriage looked at Stephen in astonishment, but before they could reply they rounded the corner and the Westridge’s came into view.

“Here we are,” Stephen said happily. He clucked to the horses, and they pranced the short distance to the door and then he pulled them to a stop. “Everyone behave themselves to the best of their abilities.”

“Can we bet on the games after dinner?” Essie asked.

“Why are you forever wanting to place bets?” Madelyn asked. She was eyeing the house as if it had teeth.

“I’m lucky,” Essie said. “I make a bit of coin on the side with it.”

“Yes, well, only if the Westridges wish to,” Stephen told her. “And be careful of Kurt. He’s very sly when it comes to that sort of thing.”

“Duly noted, parson,” Essie said, winking at him. She rubbed her hands together. “Now this evening just became entertaining.”

The Westridge home, known locally as Cantley House, was quite nice, but not grand. The nearest house to it was the parsonage. It was a typical country manse, just three floors with about five acres of property surrounding it. Just enough for Valentine to raise horses, for his own enjoyment and that of his family and friends—mostly for hunting—and dogs, which he did sell on occasion. He adored his golden retriever pups, and they were allowed to roam freely in the house. It made visits here interesting if nothing else. Leah had her own terrier, which quite literally terrorized the retrievers and was the undisputed king of Cantley.

“It’s beautiful,” Madelyn said, looking at the house, which was lit up with lamps outside for their arrival. It was a pretty house, the sandstone exterior glowing softly pink in the light. The outside was landscaped mostly with ornamental trees such as holly, yew, beech, and birch. They had some Scots pines lining the side of the small flower and shrub garden in the back of the house. Stephen had helped landscape that garden.

“Do you not like the parsonage?” That had never occurred to him. Perhaps she wanted a larger house, like Cantley? With a frown, he turned to her in the back seat of the carriage.

“I love the parsonage,” she assured him, reaching out and taking his hand. “And your garden is far superior to this one.” Her answer satisfied him because it was true. His garden was superior.

The door opened and Kurt and Esme were standing there. They both came out to the carriage to greet them.

“Good evening,” Kurt said with a little bow, every inch the German bürger . “We have been waiting for you with excitement.”

Esme was all smiles. “Yes! I thought this evening would never arrive.” She leaned on the edge of the carriage and beamed at Essie, who frowned back.

“Evening always arrives,” Essie groused. “No slowing the clock.”

After that it was a flurry of greetings and disembarking from the carriage to hand their coats off to a servant in the small vestibule.

“Come in, come in,” Valentine urged them from the door of the salon. “We shall have a drink to warm you up, and then we’ll eat. Leah has prepared a feast!”

Stephen kept Madelyn by his side with her hand on his arm, and Hastings hovered nearby.

“I’m starving,” Hastings said with approval to Valentine’s declaration.

“Good,” Valentine said with a smile. “I like a man with a good appetite.”

Dinner turned out to be a lively affair, conversation not a problem at all much to Stephen’s relief. He was surprised by Hastings’s interest in Valentine’s horses. Freddy had gifted him with a fine steed when he became sheriff, and Stephen knew that Hastings had been riding him all over the surrounding countryside. Hastings had never shown an interest in Gideon’s horse farm, but then that was Gideon. He didn’t think Hastings and Gideon would ever get along. And Gideon raised carriage horses, not hunters.

It warmed his heart to see that Madelyn had sat on the other side of old Mrs. Northcott and was making sure to involve her in the conversation. As a matter of fact, she, Esme and Mrs. Northcott had been in animated conversation most of the meal. Bless Leah for talking with Essie about The Modern Prometheus. Essie was quite engaged in that discussion, as she had a lot of opinions about Dr. Frankenstein.

“So all of your flock are settling in, hmm?” Kurt murmured to him. Stephen looked over at him in confusion. “I see you watching them all,” Kurt said with a shrug. “All is well. Everyone talks and has very pretty manners.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Stephen lied. Kurt just laughed.

“Are you involved with Mrs. Higgs?” Kurt asked.

“Yes,” Stephen told him, seeing no reason not to.

“I see,” Kurt said, his voice bland, his face blank. Both were unusual for Kurt, so Stephen was easily able to translate his comment as disapproval.

“She is a lovely woman,” Stephen told him. “She is unsure of herself in company. But you will find her to be quite kind once you get to know her.”

“She is lovely,” Kurt agreed, although that wasn’t what Stephen had meant by his comment. He wasn’t talking about her outer but her inner beauty. He let Kurt’s misunderstanding go. “There are some in the neighborhood who worry about her past.”

“So Freddy told you?” Stephen asked with an inward sigh.

“Yes,” Kurt said. “We did not know whether to reveal our knowledge of her true identity and situation.”

“There’s no harm in it,” Stephen assured him. “It will make it easier as far as remembering to call her the correct name.”

Kurt laughed again. “Which is?” he asked.

“Hyde. Miss Madelyn Hyde.”

“Ah,” Kurt said, nodding sagely. “She is unmarried then.”

“Yes.”

“That kind of subterfuge is not your forte,” Kurt said, stating the obvious. “It is why we all knew something strange was going on. She and Hastings and Miss Waters handled it well.”

“It is their job, after all,” he reminded Kurt. “And it’s Madelyn’s life, so it follows that she would do her best to maintain her disguise.”

“True, true,” Kurt agreed. “You are not worried about her situation?”

“Not in the least,” Stephen lied again. Kurt had no idea how many lies he’d told in the last few weeks. He feared he was becoming more adept at it than anyone suspected. “With Hastings and Essie here to protect us I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Of course,” Kurt said, but neither his look nor his tone conveyed confidence.

* * *

Essie quite liked whist. She’d deny it, of course, since it was a nob’s game for ladies and feeble gentlemen. But she liked the element of misdirection involved. With so few players and play moving quickly it was difficult to not give your hand away and still win. The parson was right. Kurt Schillig was very sly.

“I grew up playing German card games,” he told her when she complimented his play. “We are very cutthroat about our cards.” He smiled.

“Papa Kurt is dastardly when it comes to card games,” Esme told her. “He and I usually make a team when we’re in company, but not when we play with Mother and Father. They won’t let us play together because they say we’re too good.”

“No, we say you cheat,” Mrs. Westridge called from the other table, where she and Madelyn were playing against Mr. Matthews and Mr. Westridge. Everyone laughed at her comment.

“We don’t cheat,” Esme said defensively. “We just never lose. That’s different.”

“You’re losing now,” Hastings told her, amusement in his voice as he took another trick. Mr. Schillig looked quite pleased with his partner.

“Essie’s never played,” Esme said. “I think it’s very poor manners to taunt her so.”

“I’ve played,” Essie said. “It’s not my favorite game of chance, but when it’s offered, I play.”

“Oh,” Mr. Schillig said with interest. “You like to wager on your play?”

Essie forced herself not to smile. He’d taken the bait like a fish on a hook. Hastings just looked at her with a raised eyebrow. He was wise to her.

“I do,” she said simply. “Makes the game more exciting, don’t you think?” Esme was giving her measuring look and Essie was pretty sure she might be on to her as well.

“I do,” Mr. Schillig said. “Perhaps you would like to make a small wager on this game?”

“Kurt,” Mrs. Westridge said, clearly disapproving.

“I would,” Essie said quickly. “Perhaps just a small one? Maybe a bob?”

“Of course,” Mr. Schillig said. “A bob it is.”

Hastings just shook his head and lowered his cards to the table. He knew better than to play Essie for money. But he wasn’t going to give her away. He knew the deal.

Esme was delighted when they suddenly began to win. Mr. Schillig, as expected, grew more frustrated with each hand and refused to end the wager out of pride. Classic play. Finally, Esme put her cards down.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” she said firmly, looking at Essie. “Essie, would you like to see the house and grounds?”

“It is late,” Mr. Schillig said sternly.

“I would also love to see the house and grounds, if I might intrude on your tour, Miss Marleston,” Madelyn said. Essie could have kissed her. She did not want to get caught alone with Esme again.

“And I would like to stretch my legs a bit,” Mr. Matthews added. “So I shall also intrude.”

Esme looked resigned to having her plans thwarted. Essie rather thought her obvious plans of a seductive nature were often thwarted.

“In that case,” Hastings said, rising from the table. “I’ll go, too. Can we see the stables?”