Elizabeth Mansfield (8 page)

The dinner at Larchwood was a pleasant affair, with Julie and Tris apparently on very good terms. Phyllis and Madge couldn’t help exchanging gleeful smiles when, after dinner, Tris asked that he and Julie be excused to play a game of billiards. “Go right ahead,” Lady Branscombe said, barely able to conceal her delight. “Don’t worry about us. Phyllis and I always have plenty to talk about.”

Once in the billiard room, Tris reported to Julie the details of his meeting with Canfield that afternoon. “I liked him,” he concluded, “though I don’t think snaring him will be easy.”

“I told you that,” Julie said sourly.

“Yes, but it’s too soon to despair. I’ve arranged two social events already, so we may as well be optimistic.”

“Two events?”

“Yes. One to go riding tomorrow and another for a dinner party at Enders Hall on Saturday.” He smiled at her in triumph. “And you’ll be present at both!”

Julie shook her head dubiously. “I shall attend the party, of course,” she said, aware of a growing feeling of absolute terror, “but I don’t see how your riding appointment can possibly include me.”

“It’s quite simple. You’ll go out riding by yourself in the morning—something you’ve often done anyway—and you’ll ‘accidentally’ come upon us.”

Julie found the suggestion so revolting that it took Tris almost an hour of firm persuasion before she would agree.

When finally she did, he would not let well enough alone. “One more thing,” he ordered, reaching for a billiard cue, “you are
not
to wear your old shabby riding habit. Didn’t you say your mother had had a new one made for you?”

“Yes, but it’s much too elegant for riding in the country,” Julie said, her forehead still creased with worry about the scheme she’d so reluctantly agreed to. “It’s fit for a princess to wear when riding about on the grounds of Windsor Castle, not for a country girl to sport when frisking about on the south fields of Larchwood. I’m embarrassed to tell you, Tris, that it actually has
satin lapels!
And sleeves puffed out to
here.
And Mama insisted on buying me one of those silly cocked hats to wear with it, the kind the London ladies wear tilted over one eye when they ride in Hyde Park.”

“It sounds just the thing,” Tris said, chalking his cue.

“Tris! You can’t possibly expect me to bedeck myself in such a ridiculous rig. I won’t do it!”

He leaned on the cue, eyeing her in exasperation. “Yes, you will!”

“See here, Tris,” she snapped back, equally exasperated, “I’ve already let you ride roughshod over me by agreeing, despite my best instincts, to take my horse out for this ‘accidental’ meeting tomorrow. But ordering me to wear that ostentastious, immoderate, silly creation is pushing me too far.”

“No, my dear child, you see here! If we’re to succeed at this enterprise, you must put yourself completely in my hands. Completely. And that means following my orders on
everything!
I refer to such matters as clothes and hairstyles and conversation and flirtation and anything else I deem necessary. And unless you’re willing to agree to that
one ruling principle
here and now, I shall drop the entire matter, take myself back to London and leave you to face a London come-out without any assistance from me.”

She frowned at him in revulsion. “Indeed! I believe an ultimatum of that sort is called blackmail.”

“Call it what you like. But choose now. Yes, or no.”

She glared at him a moment more, considering the matter. This scheme of his would never work, she was sure of it. She could never win a man like Viscount Canfield, no matter how Tris dressed her up. He might try to bully her into acting like a flirt of the haute ton, but she was at bottom nothing but a mousy little country girl, and that was all she could ever be. No matter how she was disguised, her real nature would reveal itself before long and thus doom the whole enterprise. But there was one huge advantage in going along with Tris and his ridiculous scheme: it would cancel—or at least postpone—the dreadful prospect of a London come-out. That alone would make giving in to his demands worthwhile. “Oh, very well,” she murmured, her shoulders sagging in defeat, “have it your way. There isn’t much one can do against blackmail.”

“Good. Then be sure to come riding along the south bank of the river tomorrow morning at eight-thirty precisely. Wearing the new habit
and
that hat!” He glanced over to where she was standing, her head lowered and her body drooping, and he felt a momentary twinge of conscience. But he ignored it. He’d been hard on her, he knew, but it was for a greater good. So he merely turned his back on her and said gruffly, “Now, let’s stop this bickering and play some billiards.”

11

Tris and Lord Canfield met a little after eight the next morning. They’d not been riding long when Tris heard the bells in the Amberford clock tower strike the half hour. “Come this way,” he said to his companion. “There’s a fine bridle path along the river.” And without waiting for an answer, he guided him over a rise toward the riverbank. There, precisely as he’d directed her, he saw Julie, a lone horsewoman silhouetted against the glowing morning sky, riding toward them. He smiled in self-satisfaction, for everything was going exactly as he’d planned. His clever machinations were apparently going to succeed.

But his pleasure was short-lived, immediately changing to anger when he saw that Julie was wearing neither her new riding habit nor the cocked hat. His teeth clenched in fury.
Damnation
he swore to himself,
I
ought to wash my hands of her!

But as they drew closer, he saw with a twinge of relief that she was not wearing her shabby old habit either. She’d chosen a walking dress of dark blue kerseymere with a full skirt. It covered an underdress of some sort of gauzy white material, with long sleeves and a soft collar that he had to admit was very becoming. She’d also pinned back her hair in a tight, neat bun so that it couldn’t fly about her face as it usually did when she rode. Of course she was wearing her time-ravaged riding gloves (he’d not thought of ordering her to find herself a decent pair), but by and large, he concluded in relief, she looked passably presentable. “Look, Peter,” he said aloud, “there’s my friend Miss Branscombe. Do you mind if we ride over and greet her?”

“Not at all,” Lord Canfield assured him, having already recognized the lone rider as the young woman whose eyes —and legs—he’d so admired.

Tris shouted a loud hello and rode quickly ahead of Canfield to exchange a word with Julie alone. “This makes
once
that you’ve disobeyed my orders,” he muttered sternly, reining in his horse close to hers. “I’ll say no more this time, but the next time you do it, I shall consider our bond broken.”

She bit her underlip guiltily. “I’m sorry, Tris. I tried, really I did. That habit was just too dreadful...”

“All right, never mind it now,” he whispered, scarcely moving his lips as he glanced over his shoulder. “You look fine. He’s coming, so smile!”

The three horses pulled up together on the riverbank. Tris made the introductions. Julie gave his lordship a shy how-de-do, but, for some reason she could not explain, neither she nor Canfield indicated that they’d met before. Tris, to cover the ensuing silence, asked with sham innocence what she was doing out so early.

Julie, not liking the sense of subterfuge that seemed to permeate his every utterance, threw him a look of reproach. “I often ride before breakfast, as you well know,” she said.

“Without escort?” Lord Canfield asked, throwing her a surreptitious glance.

“There’s no real need for an escort,” Tris explained. “We’re only moments from the Larchwood lands. Besides, a young lady can ride safely in these environs. It’s very quiet here.”

“I see,” his lordship said with his slow half smile. “I seem to be habitually thinking like a Londoner. In town, you know, it would not be permitted.”

Another long silence followed, during which Tris studied Canfield’s face, Canfield studied Julie’s, Julie studied her hands, and the horses pawed the ground. “Why don’t we follow the river to the Larchwood south fields?” Tris suggested at last. “We can have a good gallop there and then ride over to Enders Hall for refreshment.”

The others agreed, and they turned their horses toward the south. As they rode, Tris managed to pull up close enough to Julie to whisper, “Now, listen carefully. I’ve a plan. Whatever I say this morning, be sure to agree with me.

She had no opportunity to ask what he meant, for his lordship, who’d ridden a bit ahead, was looking at them over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised curiously.

They caught up with him and cantered along the river in silence. When they came to the line of shrubs that bordered Larchwood, they all took the leap over the hedges with ease. As they started across the field at an easy trot, Tris pulled his horse to a sudden stop. “I say, was that your gardener I just saw?” he asked Julie abruptly.

She blinked, startled. “Jenkins? Why, no, I don’t think it could’ve been—”

Tris cut her off with a furious glare. “I want to ask him something,” he said, abruptly turning his horse toward the east. “Go on ahead, you two. I’ll catch you up.” And before either of the others could say a word, he’d spurred his horse and ridden off.

“Well,
he’s
getting a good gallop, at any rate,” Canfield observed dryly, looking after the rapidly disappearing horse and rider.

“Yes,” Julie said awkwardly. “I must apologize for him. That was very rude.”

“Not at all. I’m rather glad he’s gone, actually.”

“Really?” She lifted her eyes to his for the first time in their encounter. “Why?”

“It gives me the chance to talk to you. After all, I was not given that opportunity the last time we met. You rode off so abruptly.”

Her eyes fell, and her cheeks reddened. “Yes, I remember. But I wish you would forget all about that encounter.”

“It’s not very likely. It was a memorable meeting. But I won’t speak of it if you prefer that I don’t.”

“I do prefer it,” she said.

“Very well, ma’am. Then let’s speak of
the first
time we met. I was not given the opportunity to get acquainted with you that time either.”

“I know. I was sorry about that. I would have very much liked... er, that is, I’d have enjoyed dancing with you. I’m afraid my mother is... is...”

“A bit of a dragon?”

His directness caused a laugh to gurgle up from her chest. “Yes, exactly! Did someone describe her that way to you, my lord, or did you come to that conclusion on your own?”

“Both, I think. She did seem to eat me alive that night. But must you call me my lord? Your friend Tris calls me Peter quite easily.”

He blush deepened. “I don’t think I can be expected to do it quite so easily as he does.”

“Why not?”

“Because you two apparently have become ... acquainted.”

“But so have you and I.”

“Yes, I suppose...” She threw him a quick, shy little glance. “But not very
well
acquainted.”

“Ah, I see. And you won’t call me Peter until we’re well acquainted, is that it?”

She answered only with a small movement of her shoulder that didn’t say yes or no. He studied her with interest, wondering how he could penetrate her shyness. It was like a wall she’d erected to keep her safe from the rest of the world, although even in the short time he’d known her, he’d caught glimpses of the charm she kept hidden behind it. “Is there something I might do or say to make us well acquainted?” he asked earnestly.

She did not have the courage to meet his eyes. “I don’t think one can rush such things, do you?”

“You’re probably right,” he said in good-natured agreement. “Close acquaintance is akin to intimacy, is it not? And in matters of intimacy, one must let nature take its course.”

His understanding words were rewarded by a quick glance of approval from her dream-drenched eyes. “Yes,” she said softly, “just so.”

He gave her a rueful smile. “Though I can’t help wishing I could push matters just a bit. At least enough to ...” Here he had to pause to steady his horse, who was not accustomed to standing about. “... to permit you to use my given name.”

“Your mount is growing impatient with our chatter,” Julie said, thankful to have found a way to change the subject. “He wishes to run. Why don’t we take a quick gallop right now? Since Tris was rude enough to leave us so abruptly, I feel no obligation to wait for him, do you?”

“Not in the least. Shall we race to that line of trees?”

She nodded, and they spurred their horses.

A few moments later, windblown and breathless, they reached their destination. Canfield grinned at her admiringly. “I think, ma’am, that you are the best horsewoman I’ve ridden with in many years.”

“Thank you. It’s because I’m a country girl. I have more opportunities for riding than the young ladies you ride with in town.”

“Perhaps. But whatever the reason, I’d like another race.” He looked over the terrain to suggest a destination, but at that moment caught a glimpse of Tris just riding over the horizon toward them. “Dash it,” he swore under his breath, “I’d hoped we’d have a little more time.”