“Well your pastries are certainly a delight. All of Chatsworth flock to your doors each day begging for more.”
Helena was the same age as Jenny, but she was the complete opposite—while Jenny was dark, Helena was fair. She cut a fine figure in her form-fitting muslin dress with few adornments. Helena had naturally curly blonde hair which she wore charmingly pinned up—often with a few flowers woven in. She was more petite than Jenny, but her brightness shown in her pleasing smile and bright blue eyes.
Jenny went to the shop door and opened it. “I was hoping we might hike up to Randall’s Craig today. Is that too much for you?” Jenny asked.
“Not at all. But might I leave my shopping basket with you? I have a number of errands to perform this afternoon.”
“Let me take it upstairs. We will be locking the shop soon.” She turned and called into the shop, “I am leaving.”
Her father replied from the back, “Very well, my dear. Shall we see you at supper?”
“Yes, Father. I shall be home in time to help Mama.”
They left the bakery and went to the door, just to the left of the shop, which led to the family’s living quarters above the bakery.
“Wait here,” Jenny instructed, and she ran up the stairs and left Helena’s basket. She grabbed a shawl and ran back to the street.
“All ready,” she said, taking her friend’s arm and they headed off down the street and out of town.
Just a short distance outside the village, they turned onto a path that led deeper into the countryside. Randall’s Craig had a commanding view of the landscape and, as the friends began climbing toward the Craig, Jenny asked, “Have you told your father about George yet?”
Helena looked at Jenny and frowned. “Oh, Jenny, that I only could. Father is so intent that Thomas and I marry he absolutely refuses to allow me to consider any other gentleman.”
The path up to the Craig was becoming steeper and Jenny had to reach out and grab hold of a limb to help with the climb. Her attention was momentarily distracted, but once she was a little higher, she asked again, “And how does George feel about the two of you meeting in secret? I cannot think he is very happy about that—being the fine and open gentleman that he is.”
“It is all very complicated as George and Thomas are such good friends, and Thomas and I have been friends since we were children. Can you imagine… both George and I must each keep our courting from our very best friend? It is agony.”
They finally reached the top of the Craig and sat on a rock outcrop gazing across the lovely rolling landscape. Jenny took a napkin out of her pocket, unwrapped it, and took out two apple tarts, giving one to Helena.
“Here is a little treat.”
“Thank you.”
“Why is your father so insistent that you marry Thomas?” Jenny finally asked as she licked her fingers after finishing the tart.
“Oh, Jenny, Thomas is the Duke of Pemberton and father wants me to be a Duchess.”
“But you have been friends a long time. Why can you not consider marrying him?”
Helena glanced at her friend. “Because wearefriends and nothing else. There are no romantic feelings on either of our parts. We are much more like brother and sister than sweethearts. It would be ghastly if we were to marry.” She laughed and then leaned toward Jenny. “Especially with Thomas’s terrible reputation.”
“Oh, yes… there is that,” Jenny smirked.
A cool breeze was picking up as a bank of threatening clouds began heading their way.
Jenny scanned the sky and suggested, “Perhaps we should go before we get drenched.”
They scrambled up and began descending the Craig.
“Did you walk to town or take your carriage?” Jenny asked.
“I walked. It started out such a fine summer’s day.”
“Do you want to stay for supper? Papa made some very fine venison pies this morning. I can promise you a fine meal.”
“That might be lovely but let us see what the weather is like when we get back to the village. I know mater and pater will worry if I do not show up for dinner.”
“But you stay over for supper all the time. Will they not understand that?”
