He bowed. "I will certainly not abandon you in the street, Miss Jamieson," he assured her.
"But that was lying, Honor," Jane said later, taking her cousin to task. "I really do not know how you could do it."
"Nonsense!"Honor said with a peal of laughter. "I merely said Papa's birthday was soon. Christmas is not a century away, after all. And besides, Jane, I mean to have his lordship, and I shall do anything in my power to get him. He is quite lovely to walk beside.Very large and strong.And he did not hold my arm away from him. He hugged it close to his side. I am very glad you decided not to wager with me, Jane, or I should feel as if I were boasting. I mean to have him all to myself at Richmond.Pruesays the grounds of her great-aunt's house are large. Perhaps we can lose ourselves sufficiently for him to kiss me. I shall blush and shed a few tears if he does, of course, and swear that he has stolen what he has no right to." She giggled again.
"You are shameless, Honor," Jane scolded, feeling a little sick.
"I know," her cousin admitted, catching her skirts in her hands and twirling around the morning room, humming tunelessly.
Fairfax was feeling quite cheerful. It was a beautiful day as, indeed, most of the days that spring had been. And they were approaching Richmond, already away from the worst of the noise and grime of London. The ladies filled two open barouches, the brightness of their clothing in the sunlight making them all appear lovely. And there was a whole afternoon ahead.An afternoon during which to get to know Miss Matthews better if he could get her alone without anyone suspecting his intentions.And an afternoon during which to flirt further with Miss Jamieson.
He smiled to himself as he glanced back to see the young lady, sitting very upright in the barouche closest to him, looking rather like a ray of sunshine with her yellow dress and parasol and her chip straw bonnet. He wondered what fantastic lies he would draw from her that afternoon. He had not been able to resist asking her as he handed her into the carriage how her father had liked the watch fob.She had glanced hastily behind her to see where her mother was and answered him archly that Papa's birthday had not come yet.When was that birthday?hewondered. He would wager that it was not before September at the very earliest.
She had really taken her time choosing that fob, taking him to three jewelers before deciding that one fob she had seen at the first shop was the one she wanted. He had made no objection, of course. She had linked her arm quite indecorously far within his so that her shoulder rested against his upper arm, and she had moved even closer when they were forced to pass other shoppers on the pavement. The little chit was offering him quite an open invitation, in fact. Perhaps it was fortunate for her that he was not in the business of ravishing little virgins. She probably did not even realize that she was playing with fire. If shewerehis daughter, now, and he caught her up to such tricks, he would shut her into her room and feed her bread and water for a week.
The party was turning through the wide gateways that led to an imposing house. But the carriages and horses passed it without stopping. There was no one in residence, Prudence Crawley had explained. It was a beautiful place. The grounds sloped away gradually behind the house, past extensive formal gardens, a row of hothouses, and a grove of trees to well-kept lawns that ended at the banks of the River Thames. The barouches and the baggage coach halted when they had passed the trees, and Honor rose to her feet with a little shriek of excitement.
"How positively enchanting!" she cried, focusing all male attention immediately on her person. "There is even a boathouse. Is there a boat,Prue?"
She squealed with delight when she discovered that indeed there was a boat and that they might take it out. Ambrose Leighton rushed forward to help her from the barouche, but it was Fairfax's arm she took almost as if by random choice when she was on the ground. His amusement returned.
"Oh, do let us go and look," she said.
Miss Matthews was already out of the other barouche and was walking toward the baggage coach, Fairfax saw at a glance. Doubtless she had taken upon herself the organizing and smooth running of this afternoon's entertainment. He would talk to her later. He turned in the direction of the boathouse.
Two other couples followed them. But when the boat had been lifted out and set in the water, it was Honor, of course, who demanded the first ride. The boat was large enough for only two. It was taken for granted that he would be the one to row her, Fairfax noticed as he helped her in and made sure she was safely seated before letting go of her hand.
"I do admire the ease with which you row, my lord," Honor said as he pulled out toward the center of the river. "I am sure my hands would be covered with blisters in no time at all."
"I rowed a great deal at university," he said. "It is really not a difficult task, provided one does not dip the oars too deep and try to displace the whole river with every stroke."
She looked at him wide-eyed and twirled her parasol. "I am quite sure I should never be able to learn how," she said. "I really am quite helpless about such matters."
"And what do you do at home to amuse yourself, Miss Jamieson," he asked, "when you are away from the amusements of town?"
"Oh, I manage to amuse myself," she said. "I visit whenever the weather permits and Papa can spare the carriage. My friend Julia's maid has a sister who is a lady's maid in London, and she sends copies of all the latest fashion plates. We find it vastly entertaining to look at the pictures and to try to persuade the village dressmaker to copy the styles for us. And we spend hours dressing each other's hair in the newest fashions."
"I see," he said. "And do you paint? Do needlework? Read?"
"I had a horrid governess who made me read every day," said Honor. "I swore when I left the schoolroom that I would never open another book. I do not believe a lady should read, my lord, because then she might appear to be above the gentlemen whom she meets socially. It would not be ladylike to embarrass them so, would it? I dabble in painting, of course. What lady does not? But I consider it to be something of a waste of time. Why paint a scene from one's own estate when the real trees and grass and such are right there, and so much lovelier to look at than the picture?"
Fairfax glanced back to the bank. There were only a few people in sight. The four who were waiting for their own turn at the oars were seated on the bank beside the boathouse. Miss Matthews, easily recognizable in her spring-green dress, was walking withSedgeworth. He wished for one moment that he could change places with his friend. At least one could hold a sensible conversation with Miss Matthews.
He turned back to his companion. "I cannot help but notice how like a ray of sunshine you are today, Miss Jamieson," he said. "It must be the color of your dress and parasol."
"Oh, do you like them?" she asked, her eyes sparkling. "Themodistetold me that not all ladies can wear yellow. It makes their complexions look sallow," she said. The parasol was given another twirl.
"That certainly cannot be said of you," Fairfax said. "The color suits your dark hair and the roses in your cheeks to perfection."
The roses in her cheeks became even brighter, he noticed. And so the conversation continued. He was quite relieved ten minutes later to be able to suggest that they return to the bank to allow someone else to have a ride in the boat. She was Susan all over again, without the petulance. But then, Susan had not been petulant at the start. He thought, on reflection, that perhaps it would be wise not to claim that kiss after all that afternoon. He had been planning a stroll up to the hothouses after the boat ride, with a route through the trees and a kiss in their shelter.
But it would not be fair. Miss Jamieson was a very young girl obviously angling for a husband. She would give the kiss very willingly, he had no doubt. But she would probably expect an offer the very next day. And he did not doubt that despite her vanity and her rather empty head, she was a girl with real feelings. He did not believe she was in love with him, but she would be hurt and doubtless bewildered to discover that he had merely dallied with her. And dalliance was all he could offer Miss Honor Jamieson. She was lovely and eminently kissable, but she was not the sort of female he would choose for a second wife.Certainly not.He would be foolish indeed to fall into the trap of mere physical appeal again.
As soon as they were on the bank, Ambrose Leighton helped AlexandraVyeinto the boat. Honor took Fairfax's arm and led him off up the lawn in the direction of the blankets, which had been set out in the shade of some trees. Lady Jamieson was there dozing, her back against a tree. Jane was also sitting there, her arms clasped around her knees, looking down on the river.
"Jane," Honor called as they drew closer, "are you afraid of the water? You need not be, you know. The boat is quite safe. At least"—she gazed wide-eyed up into the face of Fairfax—"it is when it is in the hands of someone who knows what he is doing."
"I have been walking," Jane said. "The boat seems much in demand anyway."
