Emily Hendrickson (10 page)

* * * *

Adrian entered his room with mixed feelings. While he should have been contemplating the delights offered by Lady Felicia, he found himself meditating on the golden charm of Miss Herbert’s long hair. Good grief, he had never seen anything like it—spun gold, almost molten, flowing down her back and over that one shoulder like a cape of precious metal. She was a siren in a demure gown, with wary eyes and a kiss-able mouth, garbed in a cloak of golden innocence.

He had almost touched her hair. It wasn’t the done thing, to run fingers through a woman’s hair, a woman not so much as betrothed much less married to you. But he had wanted to do that very much. His fingers had longed to thread themselves through the strands of pure gold. An aura of lavender lingered about her. He would wager her hair held the same scent. He liked the smell of lavender, a clean, sharp aroma. It was not like the almost cloying odor of French violet that Lady Felicia wore.

Drusilla Herbert was a distinct challenge. Lady Felicia made her availability all too plain. Reflecting on it, Adrian thought he rather preferred a challenge. It made life far more interesting. Yet he knew full well what his mother expected of him and what was due to his title. That complicated things a bit. He was not free to choose as he pleased. And yet ...

Well, tomorrow was another day, and it behooved him to entertain the guests his mother had invited. It would not be difficult to please Lady Felicia. Ives would be delighted to spend time with Dru Herbert. He had behaved oddly to Lady Felicia. Adrian had never before seen him act as he had today.

As Adrian slid into bed his thoughts turned to Dru Herbert, the enchantress with her wealth of golden hair. He didn’t know quite how he felt about her, but he was certain she was not right for Ives, nor was he right for Dru, even if his mother had thought to pair them together. To tell the truth he didn’t know what sort of chap would suit Dru Herbert. She was such a beautiful creature. Pity she did not come from a family of higher standing. Yet she was of sufficient gentry status that she would never consider being some man’s mistress.

With thoughts of those golden tresses spread across the pillow for his pleasure, Adrian slept.

* * * *

When Adrian entered the breakfast room, he found Miss Herbert demurely seated at the table conversing with Lord Ives in a quite acceptable manner. It annoyed Adrian, though, and he wasn’t sure why. What a dog he was becoming.

“We were just commenting on the weather,” Ives said.

Adrian succeeded in banishing the scowl he wore. “Yes, well, it appears as though we will have a fine May day.” He helped himself to a substantial breakfast, then seated himself between Miss Herbert of the golden hair and Ives.

“What shall we plan for the day?” Ives inquired, glancing at the door as though expecting someone to enter.

“Lord Osman said something about a picnic. Surely we might all enjoy that?” Dru Herbert offered in her pleasing voice. “The weather is unusually fine.”

Adrian had noticed yesterday how well-bred her tones were. Not that he made a point of studying how a woman spoke, but it was a matter he had observed and tucked away in the back of his mind.

“I say, that ought to occupy a few hours.” Ives poured another cup of coffee and leaned back in his chair.

“When I am finished with my breakfast, I will speak to Mrs. Simpson. I feel certain that Cook can arrange a splendid picnic luncheon for us.” Miss Herbert took a bite of her roll, then a sip of tea.

“No footmen, I beg,” Ives inserted. “I went on a picnic at the Hathertons’. We could have just as well remained in the dining room, for all the feeling of an alfresco affair.” He turned to Miss Herbert to add, “There was a table covered in crisp white linen and all the crockery you can imagine, complete with an epergne laden with fruit. Why bother?”

“I agree with you, but will my mother?” Adrian asked.

“If you like, I could ask her?” Miss Herbert said with timidity unusual for her. Adrian thought she might have barged in to place the suggestion. Upon reflection he realized he wronged her. She would diffidently submit the notion and let his mother assume it was hers from the start—which is how he dealt with his mother.

“No, no, you deal with Mrs. Simpson and Cook while I propose the outing to Mother. If Lord Osman said he would enjoy it, she will be only too happy to oblige.” He made a wry face at Ives, who responded with a rich chuckle.

“It looks to me as though you are going to be parent to your mother, my friend.”

Adrian grimaced. “The very thought terrifies me.”

In short order the three left the breakfast room, each headed in a different direction.
Lord
Ives wandered off in the direction of the library. Adrian went upstairs. Drusilla headed for the kitchens.

Adrian soon found himself permitted to speak with his mother, who reclined on her chaise longue by the window.

“A picnic you say? How quaint.”

“Lord Osman expressed a desire to commune with nature in an alfresco meal.” He watched his mother react to this bit of news. She looked thoughtful, mulling it over.

“I see. In that event we must please our guests.”

“Miss Herbert is talking to Mrs. Simpson and Cook. She promised a feast to please the most fussy taste.”

“How thoughtful of her. Really, Adrian, she is utterly indispensable. However will I do without her?” She gave her son an imploring look before turning to face the view from her window.

“I was not aware she was leaving us. Surely you can persuade her to remain? Pay her more.” Adrian felt a strange reluctance to see the last of the woman he had intended to send away at once when he arrived.

“I do not want her leave, nor has she indicated she might. But a girl of her beauty cannot be left to spinsterhood. Do you suppose your friend Ives has taken an interest in her? I thought he kept rather close to her side last evening. It would be a nice thing for her to marry the baron. Imagine her a titled lady.” Lady Brentford sighed.

Adrian wondered if Ives was prepared to settle down to married bliss anytime soon. “Then you have no objection if we proceed? I will have carriages arranged and all else necessary. If you can enlighten your guests regarding the treat you have in store for them ...” He trailed off as his mother rose from the chaise longue.

“Dear boy, how like your father you are. Incredibly thoughtful when you wish. I will have everyone assembled in two hours’ time. Is that agreeable?”

“Fine.” He was aware she had paid him her highest compliment in likening him to his father. Adrian and his other parent had never been close. He had only learned to know his mother somewhat after his father’s death when he perforce found it necessary to be present at the estate. And that had been less and less in the past two years.

When Adrian ran lightly down the stairs, he found Dru Herbert marching along the hall coming from the kitchen.

“Well?” she inquired, caution coloring her voice.

“All is well. We have two hours, possibly more if I know my mother at all, to have the party ready to move. I wonder where we ought to go?”

“Adrian,
chérie!”
the high-fluting voice floated down the stairs as Lady Felicia daintily skipped her way to meet the pair who stood not far from the bottom of the steps.

She gave Dru a glance, then smiled. “What is going forth? Plans for the day?”

Adrian took it upon himself to reply. “Indeed. We are going on a picnic. I trust you can be ready in about two hours?”

“Only two hours! Horrors! Perhaps, if I apply myself at once, I shall be prepared to embark on a picnic.” She gave Dru a suspicious look. “Whose idea was this?”

“Actually Lord Osman said he would dearly like to go on a country picnic. I hope he will not be disappointed.”

Lady Felicia’s face relaxed. “I shall be ready, I promise.”

Dru watched the elegant young woman drift up the stairs. She had looked complete to a shade. Whatever might be needed was beyond Dru. A change of dress? Was there something special one wore to a picnic? She glanced down at the simple lilac-sprigged muslin she wore and grimaced. She was taken aback when Lord Brentford touched her chin, raising it so she must meet his gaze or close her eyes.

“You look very charming. I fear Lady Felicia thinks she must present herself as though at a Venetian breakfast. Not so. I cannot imagine a more appropriate gown for a picnic than the one you wear. All you need is a pretty bonnet to shade your face.”

Dru wondered what he was buttering her up for— something unpleasant, undoubtedly. She brushed his hand from her chin, giving him a doubtful look. She quite ignored the effect his touch on her chin had on her nerves.

“Well, is everything set?”

Lord Ives broke the odd silence that had crept up between Dru and Lord Brentford. She was strangely disappointed that Lord Ives appeared. Pasting a smile on her lips, she turned to face him.

“We are to leave in two hours. I do
not
know how we are to persuade all our elderlies to be ready in that short a time.” She gave the ambitious Lord Brentford a dark look.

“The thing to do is summon what maids are around and send them to the various rooms with the news of the departure in one-and-a-half hours from now.”

“But Mother promised two,” Lord Brentford objected.

Ives chuckled. “Always give them a shorter time if you want to leave promptly.”

Dru exchanged a look with Lord Brentford, thinking of Lady Felicia. They had told her two hours, and she would doubtless use every bit of it.

“Trouble?” Lord Ives inquired.

“We just informed Lady Felicia that she had two hours.” Lord Brentford grinned at his friend’s horrified reaction. “Well,
you
tell her it is less.”

Lord Ives gave Lord Brentford a sidelong glance, then began to walk up the stairs.

“Where are you going? Surely not to her room!”

“If you do not hear from me shortly, send a footman after me to pick up the pieces.”

Dru supposed he was joking, but she thought Lady Felicia quite capable of reducing a gentleman to ribbons if she pleased.

“He’s mad, you know,” Lord Brentford confided. “To insist a lady of quality hurry her preparations for the day is tantamount to committing suicide.” He gave a dramatic shudder, causing Dru to chuckle.

“I am thankful that I am as ready as need be. Now, to hunt out the rugs and other things we shall need.”

“You speak as one who has gone on numerous picnics.” He fell in beside her as they walked to the cupboard where Dru knew such odds and ends might be found.

“Oh, I have. When all of us were home we often took off on an impromptu picnic in a neighboring field—one where no bull was likely to be found.”

“There is the crux of the matter. Where can we go? I should have liked more time to have the spot groomed.”

“Well, it would remove all spontaneity from what is supposed to be a spur-of-the-moment lunch in the fresh country air.” Dru opened the cupboard and pulled forth several soft rugs perfect for reposing on grassy knolls. Dumping them to one side, she probed until she found some pillows. She held one up. “Most necessary. I shouldn’t be surprised if your mama wants a few chairs along as well. Oftentimes older people balk at sitting on the ground.”

“I
can
see that you are a wealth of information.” He paused, then went on hesitantly, “I trust you slept well? Did you figure out how the dog entered your room?”

“I slept very well, thank you. And I think it was as I said. Binky came in when the maid had the door open.
Why
it popped into my room is another matter. I don’t fuss over the creature at all.” Dru gave him a confused regard.

“And what do you dote on, Dru, that is, Miss Herbert?”

Dru gave him a startled look at the use of her nickname, then she smiled. “Strawberries, my Lord. I do adore strawberries.”

The look he returned created odd little fluttery sensations in her stomach, the sort one experienced when beginning a new venture or going into strange company.

“I shall order strawberries in that event. I am certain the gardener will find some for me . . . and you.”

Throwing caution to the winds, Dru clasped a pillow in her arms, facing him squarely. “If you are flirting with me, I think it most inappropriate, sir. Wouldn’t it be better to order the carriages?”

She barely refrained from smiling at his look of stunned affront. Relief was swift when he chuckled. She had risked her position, and they both knew it.

“Indeed, ma’am, I go at once.” He turned, then paused. “But you shall have strawberries. And you will have to do something to reward me. I don’t know what at this point, but I will think of something later.”

Dru stared at his departing figure with dismay. What had she done!

Adrian grinned as he walked to the stables. What would he insist Miss Dru Herbert do for her strawberries out of season? He paused at the sight of his head gardener to request the needed berries be brought at once to the kitchen. All that could be found. The old fellow wasn’t pleased to see his precious berries taken away, but that was hardly Adrian’s problem.

Whistling a merry tune, he continued until he located his head coachman. He could have simply ordered a number of vehicles brought around to the front, but he considered that since Ben Coachman had lived here all his life, he might know of a likely spot for a picnic.

Ben scratched his head a few moments, then offered a suggestion. “There be a fine bit of meadow down by the stream. Iffen you recall, you once had a swing there. Nice sunny spot, if that’s what you seek.”

“That will do well. We shall need transport for the food and drink. Perhaps three carriages will do. There are ten of us.”

Ben nodded his head, then set about ordering the necessary vehicles.

Adrian paused at the door, adding, “Have them in front in an hour and a half if possible.”

The older man shook his head in dismay, but Adrian knew it was possible. The vehicles were always kept in top condition and with the help in the stables, three carriages should be ready to roll well within the time limit.

The fourgon would be sent to the rear of the house so the provisions could be easily and quickly stowed aboard.