And Then She Fell(47)
Miss Hendricks looked positively enthused. “It sounds like a delightful excursion.”
“Hmm.” Dickie caught Miss Hendricks’s eye. “I’m rather fond of old places. I, for one, will join the party for the ruins.”
All their group voiced their intention to join the ramble, then Violet went on, “And this evening, as I’m sure you’ve all anticipated, there’s to be a ball. Not a massive affair—we want to keep it a touch more relaxed. We’re not in London, after all. But there will be musicians, so lots of dancing, and a few of our neighbors will be joining us, so there’ll be several more people to meet.”
“Excellent!” Percy beamed. “Sounds like my sort of day.”
As Percy was an acknowledged social gadabout, everyone laughed and agreed.
They’d all finished their breakfasts. Together, they rose, the ladies gliding to the doors that opened to the sunlight terrace, the gentlemen sauntering behind.
Pausing to let Violet lead the way onto the terrace, Henrietta glanced at those still seated about the table. Miss Fotherby was sitting with Miss Findlayson and Miss Moffat, both of whom were gaily chattering, but Miss Fortherby had a hunted air. As Henrietta watched, Miss Fotherby darted a glance down the table to where Rafe Cunningham sat beside Giles Kendall. Rafe wasn’t even pretending to listen to Giles or Robert Sinclair, seated opposite; he was watching Miss Fotherby.
As James joined her, Henrietta flashed him a smile, turned, and walked out onto the terrace. She hadn’t been surprised to discover Rafe among the guests; she’d known of the connection with the Ellsmeres. Miss Fotherby, however, had looked shocked, almost stricken to discover Rafe there. From what Henrietta had gathered, Miss Fotherby’s aunt, who had been among the older ladies seated with Lady Ellsmere, was an old friend of her ladyship’s . . . which suggested that Miss Fotherby had been inveigled to attend, and both her aunt and Lady Ellsmere were playing matchmaker.
Which suggested that neither older lady knew of Miss Fotherby’s offer to James.
They’d fallen into a loose group, strolling together in the mild morning sunshine. Reaching the steps leading down to a small parterre, Channing offered Violet his arm. She took it and they descended. James promptly offered Henrietta his arm. Placing her hand on his sleeve, she accepted his support down the steep steps.
And wondered if she should ask him what he planned regarding Miss Fotherby.
Courtesy of the incident with Marie, she and he hadn’t talked—hadn’t yet shared their thoughts on how each saw what was evolving between them. But clearly Miss Fotherby needed an answer—she had even requested one within a few days—and was there any reason, any justification, not to tell her how matters now stood?
Henrietta pondered that as they ambled along, into the rose garden and out again; she breathed in the fresh air, smiled and laughed with the others, and eventually decided she wouldn’t yet prod. James knew how matters stood, and only he could give Miss Fotherby her answer.
They eventually found their way to the croquet lawn. The sun had risen enough to dry the grass, and they quickly set out the hoops and pegs, and distributed the mallets. Then came the matter of deciding teams and the terms of the competition. In the end, they agreed to play in couples, in a round-robin style of tournament. No one really cared whether or not they had time to complete the rounds, or, indeed, who won; it was all about fun and their enjoyment of the play.
Nearly an hour had passed, and most of the younger ladies and gentlemen had gravitated to the croquet lawn and joined the competition, and the older ladies had come out to sit on garden chairs in the shade of the nearby trees to watch and smile approvingly, when James, standing to one side with Henrietta, waiting for their next match, saw Miss Fotherby—whom Rafe had earlier attempted to solicit as his partner, but who had all but seized Giles Kendall instead—walking swiftly along the edge of the lawn, head down, coming his and Henrietta’s way.
James waited until Miss Fotherby neared, then said, “Miss Fotherby?” When, startled, she halted and looked up, he smiled easily. “I wonder if I might have a word?” He glanced around, drawing her attention to the fact that, at that moment, the three of them were out of earshot of everyone else.
Miss Fotherby drew in a tight breath and nodded. “Yes. Of course.” But her expression remained haunted; she glanced constantly around and appeared thoroughly distracted.
James inwardly frowned; he sensed that Henrietta, standing beside him with her hands crossed over the handle of her mallet, was also puzzled by Miss Fotherby’s response. “About the suggestion you made on Lady Hollingworth’s terrace.”