Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Once they settled in the carriage, Mia pierced him with a look and a raised brow. “Do not think this counts as your prize. I expect a much longer ride or even a nice walk.” She crossed her arms as if to challenge him.
He returned her look. “I only used it as an excuse to get you away from Cort. I have no intention of using my prize on this short ride.” He met her gaze. “May I point out that when you used our secret word, I rescued you. You cannot say the same.”
Her lips twitched, and her brow smoothed. “Point taken. I will pay you more heed from now on.” She dropped her head back against the bench with a sigh. Her eyes fluttered closed.
“That’s all I ask,” Ben smiled softly. This was perhaps his favorite pastime. Watching her when she was unaware she was being watched. Her eyes and face relaxed. She looked so peaceful. He had an impulse to run his fingertips over her eyelids and down her cheek. But he refrained.
Instead, he cleared his throat. “What were you speaking to Mr. Miller about?”
Mia cracked a lid open. “Many of the farms have suffered because of this dismal weather. Most cannot provide the prizes they usually do for the harvest festival.” She sighed again, but this time it was heavier. “And it’s not just the corn. Everything is suffering. Indeed, there was talk of canceling the festival altogether.”
Ben nodded. He could sympathize after the failure of his wheat crop. But his loss was not crippling. He had no idea it was so bad as to cancel the annual festival. It had been a tradition for centuries. “They are not to cancel it, then?”
She sat up and looked at him, her head shaking. “No. I told the vicar we would put up the money to pay for the prizes. The baker shall be paid for the loaves he donates, as will the butcher and everyone else who offers prizes.”
Ben’s chest squeezed. He teased her greatly for being feisty, but she truly was one of the best people he knew. “That’s very kind of you.” He put his finger to his lips. “I can contribute, also, if it would help.”
She smiled at him and leaned across the carriage to pat his knee. His skin pricked beneath her touch, and he was completely aware of her. Her smell—lavender and vanilla—and the warmth radiating off her.
“I believe he will have enough. But I shall pass on your offer.”
“Or just tell him there are more funds available if needed. You need not tell him it is from me.” He cleared his throat. “Indeed, he should have come to me to begin with.”
Mia waved him off. “Do not blame Mr. Miller. We were chatting at the butcher’s shop last month and he mentioned the problems they were facing. I volunteered the money before he thought of other options. I’m certain if I had not, he would have come to you.”
Ben nodded. She was likely right. And did it matter where the funds came from? What was important was that they had the fair as they did every year and that the villagers did not feel the strain of this year’s crop any more than they already would.
The carriage stopped, and Ben jumped out. When Mia appeared, he took her hand and helped her down. “When shall I plan on my real prize?” he asked.
Mia smiled down at him. “There is a lull in the activities the day after tomorrow. Why do we not do it then? I don’t think either of us will be missed.”
An idea sowed slowly in Ben’s mind. A few days was just what he needed to fully cement the plans. “Good,” he said. “Keep the entire afternoon open, please.”
She stood in front of him, looking up at his smiling face. “What is it you are planning, Ben?”
He tapped his index finger on the tip of her nose. “You’ve already planned everything for this party. I will plan this one myself..”
She turned on her heel and hurried toward the door. “You need not ask me twice. I shall keep the afternoon free.” She called over her shoulder.
He watched her walk away, feeling lighter and happier than he had in more than a week.
The men stepped into the parlor and Mia stood from the chair she occupied by the hearth. “Now that the men are here, we can begin.”
Ben moved over to stand beside her. “What are we beginning?”
Mia clapped her hands. “In three days’ time, we will have a theatrical.”
There were a few moans from the audience. Ben was nearly certain most of them came from Rags. He hated anything that required him to ‘participate’. Especially when it required memorization and acting like anything other than his normal arrogant character. Add to it that people—basically strangers—watched it and he loathed it more than ever.
Ben eyed Mia. Perhaps Rags had more in common with her than Ben had realized.
“Yes, yes. I realize this may not be everyone’s cup of tea. Those strongly opposed to it,” she looked directly at Rags, “shall not be forced to participate. But I must insist you are a proper audience.”
Rags dipped his head to her, and Ben thought he saw a look of appreciation in his eyes. Could it be they understood one another?
Several of the gentlemen looked as though they wished to be excused also, until Mia spoke up. “You will choose a partner with which to perform.” Those same men seemed to have found a new reason to take part. Mr. Lymington and Lord Rayburton shuffled toward the group of ladies where the Miss Meechams and Lady Charlotte stood.
“To make things more interesting,” Mia said loudly, momentarily halting the men. “We will draw names out of a hat.”
Now the ladies joined in on the groaning. “But my lady. What if we do not partner well?” Miss Lucy whined. Her sister gave her a less-than-subtle elbow to the ribs.
“I have written the names of all the men on slips and placed them in this hat.” She held the old beaver up for reference, assumably for those who were unfamiliar with a hat. “The ladies will step forward and draw a name. Once you know your partner, we will adjourn to the library so everyone can look for their passages.”
The ladies moved quickly into a line with only a small amount of shoving involved.
“Drawing names. That is a novel idea,” Ben whispered in her ear.
Mia smiled up at him. “It was the only way I could think to keep Lord Montcort from asking to partner with me.”
Ben grinned. “Sometimes I forget just how clever and determined you are.” But his grin dropped away. “I only wish you could guarantee we could partner together.”
Mia grinned widely. “Your faith in me was rather short-lived, Ben.”
He gave her a side-eyed look. He did not know what her plans were, but he didn’t care. As long as they could be partners, he would not question her.
She hugged the hat to her stomach and rummaged around. “I shall remove His Grace’s name first.” She glanced up. “Anyone else wish to withdraw?”
Several men shook their heads.
“Then we shall start the drawing with Miss Lucy Meecham.”
Mia shoved the hat into Ben’s hands and pushed his arms up just high enough that the ladies could not look down into the hat before they picked.
The younger Meecham girl drew the name of Mr. Bancroft. Her ear-to-ear smile gave away her thrill at being partnered with him, while he seemed less so.
Mia slid into the line behind Miss Cartwright at about the halfway point. Lady Charlotte grumbled but then conceded that perhaps Mia did not deserve to take whomever was left.
Slowly, the ladies in front of Mia picked their name and moved to the side. Miss Cartwright reached in and withdrew the name of Mr. Lamb.
Mia’s eyes widened, and her lips twitched. Ben had heard them discuss such an event in jest, but neither of them thought it would happen.
Finally, Mia’s turn to pick arrived and Ben watched her, trying to see if she withdrew a paper from her pocket or sleeve. It was surely why she had not wished to draw last. It would be too obvious she had cheated if there were no more papers in the hat when she chose. And then if she withdrew Ben’s name, it would be all too obvious what she had done. But he saw no evidence of a sleight of hand. Just what was her plan?
But as she had promised, when she pulled her hand from the hat, Ben’s name was written on the paper pinched between her fingers. Mia smiled at him. “Lord Berwick, it looks as though we are to be partners.”
He dipped his head, pretending to be surprised by the revelation. He glanced at Cort. There was a knowing look in his eye that Ben did not like.
Mia came over and stood next to him. He looked over his shoulder toward the door and whispered. “How did you manage that?”
Mia opened her fan and fluttered it in front of her face. “I tucked your slip in the band inside. It was the perfect spot to hide it. And I did not worry someone else would discover it.”
Ben folded his arms across his chest and grinned. “Well done, Mia. Well done.”