Fenella J Miller (16 page)

She swivelled in order to hear
him better. ‘Yes, what is it?’

‘To reach the beach you’ll have
to walk along a narrow path. The carriages can’t go much further.
Beggin
’ your pardon, miss, but I’d like you to walk in the
centre of the group, that way you have the most protection.’

‘Of course, I’ll do whatever you
suggest, Perkins. I know his lordship trusts your judgement and I shall do the
same.’ She glanced around nervously. ‘Surely with so many men around us we must
be safe?’

His expression was not
encouraging. ‘
Them
as tried to ambush you had rifles,
miss, they can hit their target from a distance.’

Hardly reassuring news, but she
was determined not to allow this man’s gloom to ruin her day.

‘I’m sure between you I shall be
in no danger. I take it the path is only exposed on the side that faces the
shore?’ Perkins nodded. ‘In that case if you walk on the other side of us we
shall be quite safe.’

The coachman drew the carriage to
a smooth halt and the ladies climbed down. Obediently she found a spot between
the two Remington girls and the small group set off towards the sea.

‘I can hear the waves breaking on
the shore,’ Miss Charlotte Remington squealed. ‘I do so love the water, don’t
you, Miss Coombs?’

‘Indeed I do, Miss Charlotte, but
I have rarely
venture
in to swim.’

‘I did,’ Miss Remington said
eager to join in the conversation. ‘When we went to Bath last year we all took
a dip in the sea. It was most unpleasant and I shall not be repeating the
experience.’

Penny laughed. ‘I have had more
than enough of cold water these past few days and can quite understand your
dislike of being immersed.’

With her aunt leading the group
the short walk took rather longer than it should have done and all the ladies
were complaining of sand in their slippers by the time they reached their
destination.

‘Look at that! How pretty! I
should have known Lord Weston’s staff would do us proud.’ Aunt Lucy clapped her
hands in delight.

Penny slipped past the others in
order to see what her aunt was so pleased with. ‘Good heavens! Tables and
chairs, parasols and cushions! We’ve every luxury here.’ She placed her arm
under her aunt’s elbow and prepared to lead the way across the sand to the oasis
of maidservants and footmen awaiting them at the water’s edge.

‘She’s gone where? God dammit!
A bloody picnic.
After all I told her about staying close to
the house she’s taken all the ladies on a bloody picnic!’ Ned was not amused.
In fact he was furious. The last thing he wished to do was gallivant down to
the beach and eat a picnic.

Chapter Seventeen

Penny found it hard to relax and
enjoy
herself
. She expected Ned to arrive at any moment
in a frightful temper. Perhaps if she spoke to Perkins, made sure he knew she’d
had no choice in the matter,
he
could
explain it to him.

She leant across to speak quietly
in Aunt Lucy’s ear. ‘I’m going to find Perkins. I’ll be back before they serve
the food.’

Her aunt knew why she was
anxious. ‘Go ahead, my dear, you are as jumpy as a kitten at the moment. I
shall be perfectly content sitting here watching the others paddle.’

The beach was uneven and several
times Penny lost her footing and her slippers were soon full of sand. There was
nothing for it. She would have to remove her stockings and shoes as the other
ladies had. She sat down on a convenient tussock of sea grass and
surreptitiously slid one hand along her ankle until her questing fingers reached
the ribbon. Deftly untying it she rolled down her right stocking and took it
off.

She was in the process of
removing the second when there was the thud of
hoofbeats
in the sand. Too late! The gentlemen had arrived. Hastily restoring her skirt
so it covered her feet she stood up,
her
rolled up
hosiery tucked into her slippers. It wasn’t Ned; but the count. Her broad smile
of relief, that she might still have time to speak to Perkins, was
misinterpreted.

The Frenchman rode his mount so
close she was obliged to take a hasty step backwards, allowing him to see her
bare feet beneath the hem of her dress. He dismounted with his customary
elegance and, using the bulk of his horse to screen them from prying eyes,
bowed low. As he straightened, he looked from her toes to her crown, a
lascivious gleam in his eyes.

Now what had she started? She was
mindful to give him a sharp set down for his effrontery, but she didn’t wish to
appear standoffish. Perhaps this would be the perfect time to discover his
intentions. Gritting her teeth, Penny returned his bow with a deep curtsy,
remembering too late that her dress was cut low across the bosom and today she
had discarded her
fichu
.

Her face flushed. She wasn’t
finding this dissembling to her taste and wished she had never offered to charm
this man for she was in danger of becoming embroiled in something unsavoury.

‘My dear, Miss Coombs, may I say
how enchanting you look today. Have you been dipping your pretty toes in the
sea?’

‘I was just about to do so, sir,
when you interrupted me. Could I ask you to remove your horse?’ She did her
best to simper like a silly debutante. ‘The smell, you know, a trifle
overpowering in this heat.’

Instantly apologetic for his
lapse in manners, the count led his sweating mount away promising to return
immediately. This small reprieve gave her the opportunity to pick up her skirt
and run down to the waves and mingle with the other ladies. Hopefully here she
would be safe from his attentions?

The grey water of the North Sea
was cold and brought back unpleasant memories of the near fatal balloon
incident. How could the other ladies walk around as though they were enjoying
it? ‘Ladies, this is far too unpleasant for me. I am returning to sit with my
aunt. The picnic is being set out on the tables as I speak so please join me as
soon as you’re ready.’

Her feet were coated with sand by
the time she reached her aunt. She scowled down at them, wishing she hadn’t
agreed to come on this excursion.

‘Penelope, do not frown, my dear,
it does not suit you.’ The old lady chuckled. ‘I believe you had forgotten just
how much you dislike having sand between your toes. Sir John and I never
brought you to the beach for that very reason. That is why I insisted the
picnic be set out on the grass.’

Penny dropped into the chair
beside her aunt before answering. ‘I do remember, now you mention it, Aunt
Lucy. I sincerely hope Mary has brought the wherewithal to remove this
unpleasant gritty substance from my feet.’

Before she had
finished her sentence, her maid, accompanied by a footman carrying a bamboo
screen, and another, with a jug and bowl, approached her.
Everything had
been thought off. ‘Mary, I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you. The
sooner my feet are clean the happier I shall be.’

The screen was positioned around
her chair giving her the necessary privacy whilst her feet were washed and
dried. Unfortunately this also hid her from view.

Ned glared at his unfortunate
butler. ‘How long ago did the ladies leave, Foster?’

‘They left at eleven o’clock, my
lord, over an hour ago.’

His jaw tightened. He didn’t need
his butler to tell him how long had elapsed. ‘Are any of the gentlemen about
yet?’

‘They are, my lord. They’re in
the breakfast parlour.’

He strode down the corridor determined
to inflict the misery of a picnic on the rest of his guests. The footman
waiting by the door scarcely had time to open it for him. The room was full of
the sound of clattering cutlery and loud conversation.

‘Good morning, gentlemen. Did you
know that our ladies have taken themselves out for a picnic on the beach?’

One
nodded,
his mouth too full of ham and coddled egg to answer, and another shrugged as if
not surprised by the news. Mr Remington eventually spoke.

‘Yes, Weston, and we’re all aware
that we shall be obliged to join them there. I’m in no hurry to do so, I can
assure you.’

A general murmur of assent
greeted this remark. Glad he wasn’t the only one who found the notion
repellent, he grinned. ‘Unfortunately we must make a move quite soon if we’re
to arrive before the tide turns and the picnic party is obliged to return.’
Then he noticed one of their
party
was missing from
the table.

‘James, have you seen the count
this morning?’

‘I saw him heading for the stable
a while ago. Perhaps he is fonder of picnics then the rest of us.’

Ned frowned. He didn’t want that
Frenchman anywhere near Penny, but he could hardly dash off having said his
guests had time to finish breakfast before leaving. Hiding his disquiet, he
strolled to the groaning sideboard and selected a few slices of ham and some
bread. As soon as he was seated a footman came over to fill his cup with
coffee.

‘Have you heard about the ball
and garden party I’m holding to celebrate my marriage?’

He smiled around the table and
received looks of commiseration. ‘It won’t be so bad, you know. At least Lady
Dalrymple and Mrs Weston are not insisting on costume.’

Remington tossed his napkin on
the table. ‘I cannot abide being obliged to dress up like a Roman or some such
nonsense. But, we aim to please our ladies. Weston, you’re a lucky man. You
have found the perfect match.’

‘Thank you. I’m well aware of my
good fortune. I had no intention of marrying until I met Miss Coombs.’ He
looked a little shamefaced as he continued. ‘And even then it wasn’t until we
renewed our acquaintance I was sure I had made the right decision. I’m a lucky
man indeed she was prepared to give me a second chance.’

‘Not giving her the opportunity
to change her mind, Weston. And I don’t blame you - I’d not let such a delightful
girl get away either.’ Remington pushed back his chair and prepared to leave
the breakfast parlour.

‘Shall we convene outside in
twenty minutes, gentlemen?’ The assembled guests nodded in agreement.

It was nearer the half hour
before the horses cantered out of the park following the lane that the
carriages had taken previously. His men had accompanied the ladies to the beach
and Ned was feeling more sanguine about the whole episode. Penny could come to
no harm surrounded as she was by ladies. He smiled grimly. It would be hard for
even the most skilled of marksmen to distinguish his beloved from a group of
other similarly dressed women.

The place that had been selected
for the picnic was ideal. This was a secluded part of the coastline only
accessible by this one path and no self-respecting free-trader would dream of
landing his contraband in such a place. In order to reach this particular beach
they would have to lead their donkeys within a few hundred yards of
Headingly
.

In an almost carefree mood he led
the group along the narrow lane. Captain Smith and his militiamen had patrolled
the shore and found nothing untoward. There were rumours in the coastal
villages about an expected visit from a ship bringing French brandy and other
illegal items, but so far his spies hadn’t discovered the exact date or
whereabouts of this event.

He had spread his net wide and
found no trace of any gold or talk of strangers in the vicinity. When they did
come, he would be ready for them. He was determined to complete his last
mission successfully and then could devote the rest of his life to being a
husband and father.

He pulled up and turned in his
saddle to speak to the four men riding behind him. ‘Shall we complete this
journey along the sand? The tide is out and sand will be perfect for a gallop.’

‘Excellent
notion, Weston.
My mount is fretting to stretch his legs,’ Remington
called back.

A chorus of agreement followed
from the other three.

‘Follow me. The path is steep but
manageable.’ Ned turned Bruno into a narrow gap between the bushes and moments
later he emerged on to the shore. His horse threw his head up and danced
sideways in eager anticipation of the treat to come.

He held him back until they had
all reached the wet sand. He glanced over his shoulder to check his party was
safely behind him before giving Bruno his head. He had defied convention and
rode bareheaded. The wind whipped through his hair and his eyes streamed. He
scanned the beach, looking for the ladies.

Yes! They were exactly where he’d
been told they would be - safely ensconced on the grass that ran along the edge
of the sand. The thick hawthorn hedge sheltered them from the wind and also
from being seen by anyone lurking in the boggy land that ran behind it. He
stood in his stirrups, ready to wave to Penny, but he couldn’t see her.

The other ladies were picking
their way back towards the tables and chairs; Lady Dalrymple was talking to one
of the maids, but there was no sign of his betrothed. He’d seen the bamboo
screen but in his frantic search hadn’t recognized its significance. Where the
hell was she? And more to the point, where was that bastard Everex?

Perkins and Reynolds were missing
also. This wasn’t good. In fact it was very bad indeed. His heart hammered in
his chest and he kicked Bruno hard, urging him faster. He had temporarily
forgotten he was being closely followed by four other riders.

Penny heard the galloping horses
and jumped up upsetting both the basin and the screen. The chambermaid
attempted to grasp it and managed to catch one corner. A sudden gust of wind
lifted it into the air and with a scream of despair the girl was forced to let
go.

She watched in horror as the
flimsy object flew across the beach directly in the path of the approaching
riders. Why Ned had chosen to arrive so precipitously she had no idea, but
given the speed he was travelling the result was inevitable.

Bruno seeing the screen flying
towards him swerved sideways and leaped into the air. His rider flew in the
opposite direction. In the resulting confusion Mr Remington and Mr Weston were
the only two lucky enough to remain in the saddle.

With her fingers pressed over her
mouth to hold back her laughter, she stood and watched knowing it would be
foolhardy to venture nearer. Ned was already on his feet and attempting to ring
out the water from his jacket. Two of his companions were similarly occupied.
What was wrong with Mr Remington and Mr Weston? Why
were they
both
doubled up across the necks of their horses?

They were laughing. She was
shaking, tears streaming down her cheeks when the other ladies joined her.
Unable to speak through her giggles she gestured wildly towards the group of
gentlemen; three wet and horseless, the other two incapable with mirth.

‘Good heavens! Whatever next! My
husband never falls from his horse.’ The lady showed no inclination to rush
forward and offer her spouse comfort in his hour of need. ‘I do hope he will
not wish to sit by me now he is all wet and sandy.’

The second shook her head in disbelief.
‘How did that bamboo screen end up so far away? It’s most vexing - I have no
wish to replace my stockings without a modicum of privacy.’

Aunt Lucy called down from her
vantage point on the grass above them. ‘The wind took it, my
lady,
it was that which caused the horses to unseat their riders. Penelope, shall I
send a footman to recover it?’

Through her splutters Penny
managed to answer. ‘I doubt if it will be any use, but we cannot leave it to
spoil the beauty of shore, so yes, please send someone.’ Her voice shook as she
added. ‘I should ask for a volunteer, Aunt Lucy. Tell them, whoever is brave
enough to go down there and collect it shall be well rewarded.’

She turned to the group of
interested spectators. ‘Ladies, I think it would be wise to go and seat
ourselves at the tables. Let us leave the chairs down here on the sand for the
gentlemen.’

By the time they were settled
Perkins and Smith had rounded up the three loose animals and the gentlemen were
remounted and heading in their direction. She was grateful to be surrounded by
guests and staff. Ned was too much the gentlemen to make his displeasure known
in public.

It wasn’t her fault he’d taken a
tumble. If he had been travelling at a suitable speed and not thundering down
the beach as if he was leading a cavalry charge, none of this would have
happened. As the lemonade was being passed around the tables she noticed that
one of their number was still absent. Where was Count Everex? She could hardly
credit he hadn’t appeared to join in the general amusement.