The Edgerton carriage rattled along behind Gerard on horseback over rough, narrow country lanes edged with white flowering hawthorn and lilac dog violets. Her mother turned from the window. “Gerard will have to marry money. Unless Harrison plans to leave him his fortune.”

“Do you think he might?” Leonora said, sitting up. She peeped out at the graceful man looking totally at home in the saddle.

Exasperated, Harriett watched her sister place her hand out of the window, and allow her handkerchief to catch the breeze. “Gerard thinks it’s unlikely.”

“I believe so.” Her mother waved away an inquisitive bluebottle with her fan. “Harrison quarreled with Gerard’s father years ago over a boundary fence. The dreadful rift was never resolved. Harrison swore no money of his would ever go to his brother’s family.”

Leonora pouted. “I think that’s mean.”

“Family feuds are stupid,” Harriett said, shaking her head. “If anyone deserves his fortune, it’s Gerard. He’s the only one who takes an interest in Harrison’s welfare.”

“It’s impossible for anyone to assist him,” Mama complained. “He discourages one at every turn.”

“As if he doesn’t want anyone to come there,” Father said.

Fields of deep pink flowers stretched out beyond the hedgerows. “How pretty, we should stop and pick some,” Leonora said.

“I believe that’s fodder for the cattle,” Harriett said gazing out. “You would ruin your new boots wandering through the cow pats.”

Leonora wrinkled her nose. “So much of the country is vastly unpleasant.”

The carriage passed beneath the stone gatehouse archway carved with the Foxworth coat of arms.

“I’m glad Gerard hasn’t neglected the gardens,” Mama said, as a gardener came into view digging amongst banks of flowering azaleas and rhododendrons, the borders bright with wall flowers, hyacinths and peonies. The carriage trundled down an avenue of limes to the rambling, Elizabethan manor house.

Leonora turned from the window. “I wonder if we can persuade Gerard to visit us in London. He could escort us to routs and balls.”

Mama smiled. “Would you like him to, my love?”   

“It might be amusing.”

“To have one more beau on your arm?” Her father laughed. “As if you don’t have enough. Heaven help us once you’re unleashed onto society. We shall be swamped with hapless youths, and worse.”

“Dear me, Edgerton, I wish you wouldn’t speak so. You can never have too many suitors,” Mama said firmly.

The carriage stopped. Eager to see Foxworth again, Harriett straightened her bonnet and gathered up her skirts as the groom put down the steps.

The half-timbered house awaited them, its bay windows reflecting the sun. Bees hummed around the lavender, and daisies grew along the path. Ducks waddled through the reeds of a small pond. They crossed the cobbled courtyard to the entrance door as Gerard appeared from the direction of the stables.

“Please come in,” Gerard said when a servant opened the door. “Not so grand as it was, but I trust you’ll find it comfortable.”

The family entered a wide, stone-flagged hall. They were ushered into a drawing room, which although a trifle shabby, Harriet found charming.

“This sofa is most comfortable,” Leonora said, dimpling up at Gerard. She drew off her bonnet and shook out her blonde curls. “If it was my decision to make, I would choose to recover the damask rather than purchase new furniture.”

He gazed down at her with a smile. “Do you think so?”

Harriett’s pleasure evaporated. Another male to add to Leonora’s list. Foolish to hope that somehow Gerard would be the one man in England immune to her charms.

“Sally will take you to your rooms to freshen up before dinner,” Gerard said. “I must discuss the menu with Cook.”    

“For an earl, his life seems very simple here,” Leonora said to Harriett as they followed the maid upstairs.

“I think he prefers it that way,” Harriett said.

As Sally waited, Leonora paused on the landing. She ran her hand along the banister and studied her gloved fingers. “He might be persuaded otherwise, if he were to come into money.”

Harriett pinched her lips together. She searched her sister’s face. “You sound like mistress of the house already.”

Leonora gazed unseeingly at a tapestry on the wall. “Surely the Earl of Foxworth has a London house?”

“In Portman Square. We went there once when his father was alive, you were too small to remember. Gerard may have sold it.”

“I prefer to live in Mayfair.” Leonora frowned. “I shall have to find out.” Sally opened the door of her allocated bedchamber. “I must bathe, ugh, I even have dust in my hair.” She turned to the maid. “Will you see to it? Have a fire lit. I can’t bathe without one, even on a warm night. Have the sheets been aired? A person can grow ill from damp sheets. What about my trunk? Has it been brought up?”

Sally bobbed. “Yes, milady, the master has requested fresh linen, and a fire lit. Joseph is bringing up your trunk.”

“I do hope so. When it arrives, please shake out my dinner gown. The lilac muslin. See you at dinner, Harriett.”

Harriett followed Sally along the passage. It would be nice to be Leonora and have the confidence to believe whatever you desired might be yours for the taking.

Dinner was served in a cozy dining room with a low beamed ceiling. Through the latticed windows, the branches of a leafy horse chestnut swayed in the breeze. Cauliflower soup and braised trout caught in the river that morning were followed by roasted goose served with a dish of vegetables. Dessert was a delicious pie of damsons and cream.

“I apologize for the simple fare,” Gerard said.

“Your cook is as capable as any in London,” Mama said with an approving smile. “The goose was superb.”

“Very tasty,” her father agreed, leaning back with a pat to his stomach.

Gerard had changed into a bottle-green coat, fawn waistcoat and buckskin breeches. He’d made a credible attempt at his cravat, although Harriet doubted he had a manservant to attend him. He didn’t need one, she decided, he was quite perfect the way he was. Why, the Bond Street Beaus would spend hours perfecting such casually disordered curls.

They settled in the parlor to drink coffee. “How about some music,” Father said, holding his snifter of brandy. “Harriett? Leonora?”

Leonora jumped up and went to the pianoforte. In her lilac spotted muslin, she looked extremely pretty, framed by the embroidered hangings drawn against the cool evening. She began to play and sing The Meeting of the Waters, while Gerard stood at her side, turning the pages. Harriett had to admit that her sister did sing sweetly.

When it came to Harriett’s turn, she arranged her Devonshire brown muslin skirts around her. She found a piece of music which was a favorite of hers, the first movement of Bach’s cantata, Sheep May Safely Graze, and did her best, aware that although her voice was passable the pianoforte was not one of her talents. She’d never had the patience to perfect it. Gerard obliged again turning the pages. Her gaze drifted up to him. Was his dark hair soft, or springy like her fathers? She struck a wrong key.

Her father coughed.

“Sorry.” She rose from the piano seat. “I fare better at chess.”

“Chess it is then.” Gerard moved over to the chess table and set up a game. Perhaps he was relieved that she’d stopped ruining a piece he obviously liked. Annoyed, she decided to beat him at something she did well.

She trounced him. Chess was a game she greatly enjoyed. She wasn’t entirely sure she beat him fairly, for Leonora perched at his side to watch, and played with the lilac ribbon entwined in her fair curls.

“You have improved since we last played,” he said.

Harried raised her eyebrows. “And so I should, seeing as I was only fifteen at the time.”

“And now you are grown,” Gerard said with a smile. He reset the board. “I demand a rematch.”

“Not this evening.” Mama rose. “Come, girls, we shall retire and leave the gentlemen to their brandy.”

Upstairs, after the maid undid her gown and stays, Harriett dismissed her. She felt sure she wouldn’t sleep tonight. Somehow, this trip had changed her life in some way, but the manner of which, she was yet to discover. Perhaps only to give her a glimpse of the sort of life she wished for herself.

Sometime around midnight, she gave up trying to sleep, slipped out of bed and lit the candle. Opening the curtains, she perched on the window seat. She blew out the candle and sat in the dark at the open casement window, resting her chin in her hand while breathing in the country odors, both sweet and earthy. Only the chirp of crickets and the rustle of some small animal in the shrubbery disturbed the still night air. She was about to return to bed, but paused at the sound of a horse’s hooves on the cobbles. A man led a horse from the stables. As they passed beneath her window, she saw it was Gerard. She thought to call to him, and then decided against it, realizing it would wake the household. From the obscurity of her darkened room, she watched him until he reached the trees, then he mounted and rode away into the shadows.

Did he have a mistress?

Unsettled, she returned shivering to her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.

♥♥♥

It was close to dawn when Gerard returned. He was too distressed to sleep, and headed straight to the kitchen. In the cold grey light, he packed his breakfast of bread and ham, as he did every morning, although this time, he would feed it to the birds. He crossed the fields to sit against a tree, and breathe deeply of the pungent dew-drenched earth, hoping it would calm him. It didn’t. He stared into the distance, as his tired mind wrestled with a truth he didn’t want to face. Urgent action was needed. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. The events of last night had rent his life apart.

He had to be clever, construct a plan to deal with this, and wished his heart wasn’t so heavy. He could hardly breath with the shock of it. Harrison had become more like a father to him than an uncle. He suddenly felt cut adrift.

At least the Edgerton’s would depart for London today, but taking with them any foolish dream he’d had to woo a lady.